A/N: Hello readership, been a while. Thank you for all your personal kind words, it was heartwarming. Life has been busy, but its here, and I'm going back into hiding.
June 2017
New York
"Ben's neurotic alter ego is back. I'm allowed to leave my desk only to perform strictly specific tasks or bathroom breaks." Shiri ranted in displeasure.
"Long bathroom breaks." Nicole followed with a snicker.
"What about lunch?" Rory chimed in, slightly out of breath down the phone.
Ben never managed chaos well. She remembered how all over the place Ben used to be previous to the Logan-is-back-in-Seattle-era. If anyone had told Rory Gilmore then that she'd be on a different career path, shacking up with a gorgeous media conglomerate executive and living in a prestigious top to the notch New York apartment… She'd laugh at their faces.
It seemed like forever ago, but it's only been roughly six years.
Today, her life before Logan, before Aiden, felt like a blur. Whenever she sits down to send samples of her portfolio, she always ends up reviewing the archived comics she no longer published – it feels like a different life.
"He has to allow me to leave my desk for lunch; that's a violation of workplace regulation." Shiri noticed the change in her tone, "Why are you panting? Are you doing something naughty?"
"No. I." Rory panted as she pulled on her luggage handle. She had just touched on American soil and stepped out of the subway when the phone rang with her three former work colleagues on the line. "Should. Have. Accepted. The offer of the. Town car. Instead of the subway. I bought way too much stuff."
Rory had gone completely Lorelai Gilmore on her last two free days in Zagreb. She couldn't just leave all those beautiful souvenirs on the other side of the Atlantic.
Or those cute red sneakers.
"That's because you have a stubborn stick up your butt." Rory could hear the graphic designer chewing gum on the other side of the conference call.
It was 8 p.m in New York, 5 p.m; in Seattle. The girls will pack their belonging and go to their respectable homes, once the conversation had exhausted itself.
"I miss Logan. Do not tell him I said it. I'll deny, deny, deny!" Shiri strongly threatened, "You did your stint in New York - why don't you just pack up come back to Seattle?"
"Sorry." Rory hummed in understanding as she tried to sound sympathetic over the phone while struggling with her luggage. Logan may share Shiri's sentiment of wishing to go back to Seattle. But Rory - despite uprooting her whole life for him to follow through with his dynastic plan – didn't.
New York was home. The concrete jungle dreams are made of. There's nothing she couldn't do in New York. The city that never sleeps had allowed her to reinvent herself professionally; the streets made her feel brand new. Its big bright lights charged her with inspiration.
If she can make it there, she can make it anywhere.
"How was Croatia? I googled the place. I'm trying to convince Ryan we should book a Mediterranean second honeymoon. Just think about it, the beach, the sun, fantastic Greek-like food. Ozzo. No kids." Kate fantasied at loud. "Think of all the sex…"
"It was great." Rory agreed laconically, hoping to divert the conversation away from sex. Unfortunately, Girl-chat always somehow ended up there. Her mind was already swimming with indecent thoughts regarding the man who waits for her at home; she didn't need any more encouragement.
"I don't know how you do it. I don't understand why didn't you asked Logan to tag along. It's not like money is an issue."
"I was working, Kate," Rory answered defensively. "We keep our professional life separated from our personal life. I don't tag along to his business trips. And we have Aiden to think about."
"Logan doesn't do business trips anymore." Shiri quipped knowledgable, "And please, your professional life were never separated. Tell that to someone else."
"Still three weeks without sex, it sounds horrible." Kate mused.
"I tell you how she does it. She has phone sex." Shiri stated confidently.
"Can we not…?" Rory tried to avoid an explicit confirmation. Logan was great at phone sex, but they didn't need to know that.
"You do know that whenever your protest too much - we know it's true." Shiri was rolling her eyes on the other side of the continent; Rory was sure of it.
"I feel guilty for leaving Diya for the 8 hours just to go to work, and that's only thirty minutes drive. I wouldn't survive three weeks away from my baby girl with an ocean between us." Nicole offered her two cents.
A pang of guilt tagged on Rory's heartstrings as she said it. For the first two days after touching down in Croatia, she was so caught up with the time change, the adrenaline rush of a new set to dwell on the separation.
But as the days passed, guilt had started to creep in.
Whenever Aiden refused to Facetime, he more often declined than agreed - her heart crushed a little. The sporadic times when Logan managed to coax him into participating, the boy was more interested in pressing the red button.
When the last week rolled by and filming started to wrap up, she had already physically missed him – and his father - terribly. Rory had gone a little crazy in a traditional wooden toy shop and bought him tons of toys to overcompensate.
"Kids are resilient," Rory mumbled in an attempt to convince herself. To shut the bubbling guilt. She pulled the large suitcase out of the elevator and fished out the keys to unlock their door.
"I don't know at this age… they're so small." Unfortunately, Nicole didn't get the hint.
Rory hated when people got all judgmental about it.
"Give the poor girl a break, she's trying to make something out of herself."
Thank goodness for Kate. Always to her rescue.
"I, for one, wouldn't object some destination vacating wedding." Shiri launched the conversation into a new angle. "Tell Logan he should put a ring on it."
"Or you could find a boyfriend." Rory tried to dodge that landmine gracefully.
"I already told you there are very slim pickings in Seattle. If they're not taken, there's something wrong with them."
"You are just extremely picky," Kate interjected.
"Agreed." Nicole supported the graphic designer's observation.
"I was waiting to snag a rich and handsome heir, but Rory swooped in and stole him." Shiri tsked, and a collective giggle erupted on the other end of the line. "Logan doesn't happen to have any available multi-millionaires friends over there in NY, does he?"
"You don't want to date any of Logan's friends."
Logan. Just thinking of him set a tingling fire within her. The man who swift through into her life like a breeze, and offered a string to her rattling kite.
"So… is he?" Nicole's question and the waited silence clued Rory back into the interaction.
"Who?"
"Logan."
"What about him?"
"I bet any ring he would pick would be beautiful." Nicole sailed away into dreamland.
It was true. Logan has impeccable taste in jewelry. The ridiculously expensive watch on her wrist was a testimony. The earring set he gifted his sister at Christmas in exchange for socks was stunning. So were the rings that Chelsea rocked on her fingers in California.
He even had a good taste for men's pieces. The ring she found resting in the safe prior to her trip proved it.
"That's not in the cards." Rory shut them down. On more than one occasion, Logan has declared he never intends to get his name on another wedding license. Somedays Rory thinks he says that just to see the vein in his father's forehead throb.
They were keeping their life the way it was on all fronts. Logan has surprisingly taken her disinterest in another child, at this moment, in stride.
Rory didn't know communication could be so sexy. It only made her want him more.
"What a shame." Shiri tutted, "If you get another Birkin bag and get tired of your old one, I wouldn't mind giving it a proper home."
"We'll see."
She rolled her suitcase in, dropped her keys in the ball in the entrance, and kicked off the shoes off her aching feet. The cool wooden floor felt nice against her naked toes. She inhaled the familiar scent of home deeply.
Home.
As it usually was at this time of day, the apartment was quiet and dimly lit to signal the bedtime atmosphere. Rory left her luggage in the foyer, set to find her boy. The ongoing phone conversation blurred into the background at the sight of the Christmas lights hanging in the living room.
Christmas lights in June didn't faze Lorelai Gilmore's daughter - it was something else.
"Ah, girls, I've got to go - there's a tent in my living room."
~w~
"Faster." Rory trusted her hips to compel him to move. She wanted… no, she needed release.
Logan's eyes bore into hers intently, full of desire and unexplained composure. "Say it."
The dim lighting shadowed part of his face, but Rory knows his features by heart. It's not the first time Rory found herself jumbled up in a tent with Logan Huntzberger. Yet, the last time was in the great outdoors of Washington State and not on top of the foamy baby play-mat in New York's Greenwich Village.
Rory licked her lips in anticipation, "Please."
Logan teasingly placed a lazy open kiss on her neck in response. "Please what?"
"Move." She breathed out in pleasure when he indulged her with a barely felt motion. It wasn't enough, it was just teasing, and Rory was so far from that point- and impatient.
"Not until you say it." Logan kept still. Nearly his whole weight helps up by his right forearm as his body hovered over hers. His other gripped her hands over her head.
Rory focused on his flexed shoulder muscles. They were so defined, so firm. On their breathing. On their mouths devouring each other. Slow and sensual. As if he had pre-planned to wear her down into submission. Rory broke away for air and wiggled her hands, trying to get them free.
"I'll say it. Let me be on top."
"No." His grip tightened, his weight leaning in.
Rory purred and rubbed her face into him, trying to coax him to soften his firm stand of being in control. He rarely denied her requests in bed, "You love me on top."
Their tongues battled again instead.
"Say it." Logan breathily demanded.
Rory Gilmore closed her eyes and surrendered, "I love you."
Xx
Rory leaned on her side, basking in the aftermath of their lovemaking, her thoughts swimming and floating uncoherent. Her fingers traced the sports bandage over his shoulder blade. "How this happened?"
"Wall climbing." Logan's response muffled by the blanks that padded their magic bubble as he laid spent face down. "I pushed it. It's nothing."
"Hmm." She hummed in disbelieve, her fingers lazily continuing to trace the outline of his muscles, "So, Huntzberger, what's with the deal with the tent?"
"I thought it was romantic." Logan shifted his face towards her. His dimples stuck out cheekily.
Rory missed the smirk and the dimples. She missed everything about him - even his smartass-ness.
"You have a weird sense of romance." She nestled her nose into the crook of his shoulder, inhaling him deeply. He smelt like a mix of men's soap and sex. It was intoxicating, she wanted to take him in with all her senses. She wants to keep him for herself. "Take tomorrow off."
"I'd love to." Logan rolled onto his back, his hand naturally slipped into her messy hair, "But I can't."
"Yes, you can. You're the boss."
"I really can't. And I have to stay late."
"Pretty please." Rory stretched, pressing her body flat against him.
"Sorry."
Their lips met again for a slow kiss. Rory enjoys their now lazy re-familiarization. It lasts until she's breathless.
"I'll talk to your dad."
Logan made a face. Mitchum liked Rory; if she asks, the older man would probably be inclined to agree. But that would set another round of follow-up questions about his unconventional family life that Logan didn't want to answer. "Don't talk about my dad when you're naked."
"Seriously, what's with the tent?" She persists. Hours on a plane, dragging the heavy suitcase in public transport, and lovemaking in a tent were taking their toll on her muscles.
"Aiden plays here," Logan revealed the actual reason behind the tent situation.
Rory's body jerked out of the comfortable embrace of his arms with horror. "We need to sanitize the whole thing!"
"Relax." Logan wasn't as bothered; his hands pull her back against him, "He goes in and out and throws stuff inside for maybe five hot seconds. He got the attention span of a fruit fly."
"We just had sex here."
"Great sex." One hand slipped lower down her spine slowly, down the roundness of her bottom, then fell between them, seeking her tenderness. His fingers sent tingles and making her eyes roll back and unconsciously press the slow friction of his hand.
God, this man could work her up into action in no time so effortlessly.
Her eyes rolled back in pleasure and closed, giving in to the sensation. But her mind wasn't still there, "Shouldn't we check on him?"
"Mmhm.." His husky voice tingles in her ear as he places hot open mouths kisses on her neck, sending additional vibrations in her center. "He never wakes before midnight. We're swimming in time."
Rory's body betrayed her common sense, molding perfectly to accommodate him.
"We really should sanitize this thing afterward." She mumbled.
"Stop thinking about it."
~W~
"Whites, syntactic, jeans. Stained." Clothes flew out of the suitcase, carelessly landing on different piles on the tiled floor with irritated throws.
Rory Gilmore hated doing laundry. There's nothing romantic about unpacking. It lacks the excitement the sets in her when the opportunity to fill out a suitcase presents itself. It's a chore. And it's her least favorite thing to do.
She had defeatedly backtracked to her last resort when she lost the bloody battle of bedtime.
"Ace –" Rory looked up from the task of sorting her delicate from her other clothes at the call of her name. Logan stood at the door of the laundry room, looking at her worriedly.
She wordlessly turns away from him and his unwrinkled slacks and fresh-looking shirt. Thursdays were his regular work late days, and somehow, he still managed to look exactly as he stepped out the door in the morning.
"I can do that." He offers.
"I know you can do that. You can do anything and never go wrong, don't you?" Rory replied dejectedly. Her hand reached to grab the stain remover.
She had heard every piece of the conversation with Therese, the nanny, who filled him in on the afternoon's miserable state of events.
"Stop." Logan's hand wrapped around her wrist. His body frame closed on her from the back. She resisted his attempt to turn her in his embrace. "Don't do that; talk to me."
She also heard him ask Therese to stay late tomorrow too.
"Logan," Rory exhaled.
"Bad day, huh?" He eventually managed to make her face him.
"Aiden doesn't like apple sauce anymore?" Rory willed the tears away from her speech.
The whole day was a complete train wreck. From the moment Aiden woke and greeted her by hiding behind his father's leg like she was some stranger this morning to the tantrum he threw when he instantly realized Logan was absent from the afternoon routine.
He didn't want to leave daycare until Therese stepped in.
Logan gave her a timid smile. "Hates it."
"He's scared of the blue slide now? He used to love it."
Their trip to the playground, with Therese in toe, was another complete disaster. The boy absolutely refused to play at anything other than the swing, which was occupied. For many minutes he stood his ground, set on getting his way.
Stubborn Huntzberger genes.
Eventually, his patience has run its course, and when she tried to pacify him, offering they play on the slide- he bit her.
"He slid too fast last week, slipped and got an 'owie'."
"And the red shoes are too tight." That was the straw that broke the camel's back. The brand-new red sneakers she had brought back with her.
"They are." Logan concurred as a matter of fact.
"But they're new."
"It's just shoes, Ace."
"It's not just shoes." Rory Gilmore hated to experience failure. Her brave dementor crumbling at once, her tearful sniff was uncontrollable. "I'm his mom, Logan. I'm not supposed to mess up his shoe size."
"I mess up his shoe size all the time. Do you know how many times I asked Natalie to return a pair?"
"You know what his sleeping cycle looks like." Her blue eyes completely watered, another sniff of tears choked her. "He squirms away from me and prefers the nanny."
Logan felt his heart break. He knew this would happen. If anyone knew first-hand what it feels like having a parent who went missing for weeks and then coming back with a bang – it was Logan.
It was painful to watch the rejection this morning when Aiden woke and saw his mother home. The hurt was written all over Rory's face before she forced a cheery expression on.
"Do you want me to fire the nanny?" He tried to lighten up the mood with a joke. There's no other way to sweeten the moment; there was nothing he could actually do.
It didn't work.
"No, I don't want you to fire that nanny! What good would that do?!"
"He missed you too." Logan said reassuringly, cupping her heart-shaped face in his hand, "You're only back a day. It was a really long trip; we knew it would be an adjustment."
The look on her face told him she didn't think it would be this hard. "It was only three weeks, Logan, it's not like I wasn't coming back!"
A ghost of a smile played on his lips.
"What? Why are you smiling?!"
"Nothing, I heard that line before, under different circumstances." To him after her Fes adventure, the day he finally confessed his desire for a kid and a family out in the open.
The day that pretty much changed everything.
"He's not even two yet, Ace. He doesn't understand…" His thumb draws circles on her cheek, wiping some tears away, "This felt like forever for him."
"He bit me!" Logan tried but was unsuccessful in hiding his instinctive wince.
Aiden was biting at daycare too. It had started right after she boarded the plane, but Logan didn't want to tell her that, yet.
"I'm a horrible mo.."
That's why.
"You're not." Logan nipped Rory's sense of drama at the bud with certainty, "Happy mom - happy baby, right?"
Rory chewed her lip unsurely. Most days, she believed in it. When breastfeeding didn't work for her, she switched to baby-formula to stop Aiden from starving. It proved true by going back to the demanding and competitive playground of film school because she couldn't stand her world narrowed down to a baby caregiver. Her sense of self was diminishing right at the time when she finally found her path.
The day she re-enrolled, Aiden gave her his first genuine smile.
This time Rory had serious doubts whether what made her happy made Aiden happy.
"Tomorrow would be better. I promise." Logan pressed a kiss to her forehead.
Rory pressed into him, hoping his optimism will rub on her.
"Do you want me to kiss it better?" A dancing glint appeared in his eyes.
The smirk and the dirty undertone that accompanies his proposition sends her head dizzy. She was still sore from their camping activities last night. "You're insatiable!"
"It's been three weeks, Ace."
~W~
"Are you sure there is no way I can persuade you to come?" Rory asked the man behind the milky glass shower unit. "I told mom she could be my plus one, but I can ask her to stay and babysit."
The sight of her mother made Logan grace Lorelai with a polite hello, and find the lamest excuse to disappear into the shower.
Rory quickly followed his heels.
Rory was dressed to go. The elegant bodysuit that clung to her chest, showing off a modest amount of her cleavage. She teamed it with a maxi skirt and golden sandals. After an extensive shopping day, Lorelai had agreed it was the perfect outfit for the foreign film premiere.
Sexy, but not too sexy to send the wrong message while mingling. Every event is networking-worthy.
"Did he go to bed okay?"
Aiden has gone to bed already. Not without protest. By the time the boy had fallen asleep, after he cried tears equal to the Hudson's annual discharge, his eyes were puffed and his whimpers hoarse.
When Lorelai asked whether he was always like that, Rory hummed uncommittedly. That's how he was like with her.
She bet when Logan or Therese was in charge, Aiden would happily take his vitamins. He would never have soap in his eyes when taking a bath, and he wouldn't repeatedly throw the blankets off the bed.
His eyes would not stay fixed on the door, for the majority of the afternoon, asking for his other parent. As if he was waiting for Logan to breeze in and rescue him.
It had left her feeling an incompetent parent again.
"We were fine." She lied. "So, about tonight?"
Deep down, Rory regretted dismissing the nanny early. Therese had eyed at her suspiciously with a raised eyebrow, but Rory fake-confidently insisted. She didn't want to look like an utter parental failure in front of her mom.
Lorelai had managed to raise a kid from scratch at a much younger age. Her mother also managed to conduct a busy social life and craved out a decent, successful career while doing it. And she did it all without a partner, without a nanny and a joint account credit card.
Which Rory never used.
"Is Vinnie going to be there?" His silhouette called back from under the stream.
"Possibly," Rory leaned her body against the bathroom sink unit, moving a few toiletries around to make room, "it is part of her job to be at these kinds of events. You know."
"Then I most definitely pass on the blunt sexual harassment I'm bound the endure."
Logan was less than enthusiastic about attending after-hours work-related events he was required to keep by his Huntzberger obligations. And he strongly insisted on keeping their career separated, despite the fact their line of work was in two different fields. So, him not jumping on the bandwagon was no surprise.
Plus, for reasons unknown, he hated her agent Vinnie Van Dyke.
The only event Logan was keen to attend was the Planetarium Gala her grandparents held annually. Logan was far more interested in celestial bodies than she'd ever been.
Hell, if she bailed, he would probably go alone.
"She does not sexually harass you." Rory straightened her posture and put her hands on her hips, "It's just her way. She flirts."
"Eh- What Vinnie does is not flirting." Logan disagreed, his head momentary revealing itself full of shampoo. "You don't need me to remind you who they say that about in your industry."
"Vinnie might be lush, and she might have an unhealthy crush on you. But she's not a sexual predator." Rory huffed at him in annoyance. Every female she had ever met found Logan was attractive.
"Says you."
"I do. You need to be nice to her – I need her." Rory worried her lip. Vinnie's strong vocalization of Logan's attractiveness was maybe blunt, but ever since she started working with the agent, scoring projects and jobs became easier. She didn't have to sweat and chase dead-end jobs as much. She could choose projects; she could say to ones that were beneath her abilities. She had working opportunities like the Croatia film.
Once again, taking Hugo's career advice had paid off.
"I'm always nice." Logan's eyes twinkled at her, his hand reaching out invitingly. "Come here."
"I'm dressed and you're gonna get me all wet." Rory declined his invitation.
"Argh, I hate it when you work blue." A little fire danced in his brown pupils.
"What? I wasn't working blue!" The smile on his face stretched teasingly, "Logan! I swear I wasn't working blue. My mother is out there in the living room!"
"Thanks for reminding me. Way to kill the mood." His foamy head disappeared back under the stream before he stepped out and grabbed a towel.
Whenever Lorelai spends the night, the chances of getting laid drops to zero.
"We don't have to stay the entire time;" She tried another tactic to win him over. They hadn't been on a date since… to be honest, she could remember, "we can skip right after, go to the plaza, rent a room and make a…"
She would have fun with her mother for sure, gazing at celebrities and wannabes and making witty comments about people's state of dress. It would be distracting. But… Logan was probably the only one who could put her confidence back intact after this stressful evening.
Logan's head shoots out of the towel, his hair sticking out in all place, his eye sparkling naughtily. God, she was ready to have him right there. "Yeah?"
"A night of it." Rory was quick to clarify her intention.
The light in his eyes dimmed a little at the loss of hope. Rory could swear he had wished she'd say something entirely different. The B word.
Yet, she spied the hint of temptation. He might still agree to go – if she played it right.
"Think of it—just us. No phones. No distractions…" She spoke huskily while pressing against his towel-clad body. Her fingers stroked the back of his neck, edging his face closer. Logan's eye turned dark with lust. "No kid…"
"Hey, we like the kid."
"Shhh…" The kiss she placed on his mouth was hot, slow, and full of promise. Her hand moved to grab at the front of the towel, trying to cash in on his horny mood. Logan moaned into her mouth.
She had him.
"I can ask mom to stay; she won't mind," Rory mumbled on his lip with an unstoppable grin.
"Rory!" Her mother's voice rang urged her daughter to hurry, "We're gonna miss Sean Penn make his entrance on the red carpet!"
Rory squeaked in frustration as the demand of her mother made him pull apart. So close. She could feel him starting to sway. Lorelai killed that, and the physical effect she had managed to inflict on him.
"Something tells me that she might mind." Logan laughed lightly at Rory's defeated face.
"That's not even funny. He's not even going to be there." Rory glanced at her watch for the time. Then, tried to push away from her mind the sudden flashback of timing sex when trying to get pregnant, "If we're really fast, we have time for a quicky."
"You make me feel cheap, Ace." Logan pecked her pouty lips, "You look nice. Have fun."
~W~
"Ben! This is a surprise." Rory smiled at the incoming call. As always, her notifications blasted up the once phone reception were once again available—she usually only tended to at the end of the day.
"Rory, finally! I was trying to reach you for…."
"Sorry, I must have missed your call; reception on set sucks. I just stepped out to grab lunch," Her free hand reached to check the label on the sandwiches laid out for the crew. She was starving. "What's up?"
Logan's friend didn't dwell on pleasantries, "Have you talked to Logan?"
"Ehm. No. Not since very early in the morning."
"Huh."
Rory took a huge bite of her BLT sandwich. She had had better, but it was something. "Did you try Natalie? she's usually on top of his whereabouts."
Moving to New York had revealed how immersed Natalie was in his day-to-day routine and his personal life. Rory had initially hated it. It felt awkward to have Natalie know her bra size. It was also weird to have someone else intimately familiar with Logan's quirks. On top of it, the way the woman anticipated his every need was creepy.
Eventually, she had grown to accept it. It made life easier.
Natalie was pleasant, efficient, and emotionally intelligent enough not to grace her with a knowing look on the rare occasion Rory paid a visit to the office in the middle of the day. If it were Shiri – she would not hear the end about that kind of visit.
"Rory – " Ben spoke her name again.
"Yes.." She drawled the word slowly, feeling as if she's missing something. Ben always sounded like he was scratching his head when speaking to her. Like he was trying not to overstep some boundary. His background sounded off but familiar. "Are you at the airport?"
"I'm about to board my flight to Hartford. Aaron Rosen died."
~w~
New England
Hartford finest has lined up to Aaron Rosen's funeral. Rory spied her grandmother, surrounded by a group of ladies she recognized for the DAR. Once upon a time, many facelifts ago, she knew some of their names. Her grandfather was probably around too somewhere.
Aaron Rosen died in his sleep.
It was a beautiful day for a funeral. The women wore black; the men wore neutral expressions. Birds were singing, bees were buzzing, and the flowers bloomed in vivid red. Absolutely surreal.
Her eyes were burning at the back of the familiar blonde head standing in the front row close to Logan. Too close to her liking. Chelsea styled her long hair in a perfect high ponytail. Not a hair out of place. Oversized Jackie-O sunglasses shaded her striking blue eyes.
Rory couldn't tell if it was meant to hide the tears or something else.
Finn stood close behind the blonde pair in one odd colorful shirt. Colin, who nodded at her in greeting as she arrived, was accompanied by a smartly dressed woman who looked a lot younger than Rory knew her to be. Colin – so had Logan disclosed – was going through a 'dating older women' phase.
"Listen," Ben leaned down to her right, keeping one eye on his friend at the front. "You need to let him do what he needs to do."
"Over my dead body," Rory muttered back lowly. Her gaze stayed fixed on Chelsea's left hand; it slipped unsurely in and out of Logan's until he tightened his grip on it. The golden rings stood out against her black clothing.
Rory Gilmore rubbed her bare hands together in discomfort.
Ben didn't even cringe at the inappropriate choice of words, as they continued whispering, "There's a lot of complicated history there. He'd want to keep it separate."
Rory was not a stranger to Logan's desire to keep his past and present on two different spheres.
"I'm standing here at the back with you out of respect." Both of them had more than one reason to stay back, "But let's make one thing clear - I'm not his mistress. I'm the mother of his child."
"Exactly." Ben concurred, "He needs you to step up and be with Aiden now. While he sorts through his emotions."
Rory pursed her lips. She didn't appreciate Ben's insinuations nor the lecture.
"Rory, if you kick the cat, the cat will scratch you; trust what I say." Ben adds a friendly warning, "Don't fight him on this - you'll lose."
~W~
"Are you okay?" Her arms wrapped around his tense form. It was a stupid question, but the only one she could manage under the circumstances.
He stayed there for a moment. The texture of the back of his suit was crisp against her skin. His arms felt loose around her, compared to the life-depending grip she wrapped him in.
"Where's Aiden?" Logan took a deep breath of her hair before she felt him pull back out of her arms.
On normal days Rory loves that it's the first thought on his mind. Today, she knows asking about Aiden is a well-crafted avoidance tactic. Logan always skirted around emotions if possible, especially in a public setting. The only time he let his guard down was when they were utterly alone, and only if he was the one in control of the situation.
"At mom's. I've got pictures of him pulling at Paul Aneka's tail." The toddler took immense pleasure from chasing him around, which didn't help ease the dog's regular paranoia.
"Poor dog." A momentary smile flatter on Logan's features. The tips of their fingers brushed, searching, "You better go pick him up and head back to New York, or you're going to get stuck in traffic."
"I'll wait until you're ready to go."
Logan rocked on his heels, the way he always did when he knew she would not like what he was going to say, "I'm staying in Hartford until the end of the Shiva."
What? When had that been decided? "Why?"
"Chelsea needs me."
"Aiden needs you." Rory countered back while her heart mutely screamed; I need you, and I need you to need me. "You don't get to compartalize this, Logan. You lost the right to keep it separated the moment you started taking our son over for a bi-weekly golf game."
Using the Aiden card to guilt him was a dirty tactic. But she didn't care for it or the scene she's making. The only woman he'd going anywhere with is her.
Logan scanned their surrounding before guiding gently by her elbow towards a more private corner, "Rory, I don't want him to see me like this."
"Like what? Sad?" her blue eyes bore into brown. For the first time since knowing him, they looked drained.
Logan rubbed the back of his neck as if trying to rid of invisible tension. "Off the grid."
"Your son deserves to see his father vulnerable, Logan. It's a part of life. It's human." Rory tried to rationalize the circumstances, refusing to back down. "You do what you need to do. Your parents' house is only three houses down. We'll wait for you there."
There is no way she let her win him.
"No." Logan shook his head shortly, "You need to go back to New York. He is used to being home when one of us is not there. This is too confusing."
Rory couldn't quite tell if he was speaking for Aiden or himself. But it's crystal clear to her who he means by 'one of them'. Logan had cut down most, if not all; his traveling once transferred back to New York. She couldn't think up the last time he went on a business trip.
He didn't even seem to miss it very much.
Logan claimed it was part of his contract, but Mitchum had once let it slip, with a pronounced eye roll, the real reason was 'Logan's parenting standards.'
"Aiden needs stability."
"You need Chelsea." She couldn't help but sound accusing.
"What I need is for you to go back to New York and be my treasure keeper now. I want him at home." Logan stated, his temper starting to get the better of him, "That's what I need you to do."
"Logan –"
"Rory," He tapped his foot. His patience was running thin, and her moniker vanished like it always did when his state of mind we less than collected, "Can you for once just do what I'm asking? You are not a part of this. I didn't even want you to come here."
Ouch.
"Well, too bad, that's what baby partners do." She hates that term, but it fits. She had used it with intention, to cement her status in words, "Baby partner trumps ex-wife."
Her jaw ticked in determination as she tried to concur the bubbling jealously in the pit of her stomach. To ignore the reignited hurt of being informed of the situation by Ben and not the man with whom she shared a bed and a life.
Logan's face wore a mix of emotions she can't tell apart.
"I can't do this with you right now. Take him home." He actively turned away, effectively blocking any further deliberations.
Rory stood there completely winded, feet heavy like they were nailed to the ground as she tried to conquer the quiver of her lip. It was annoyingly frustrating how accurate Ben is when it comes to how Logan conducted himself during some situations.
"Rory," a heavy hand laid on her shoulder. She looked to her left surprised to be on the receiving end of this kind of gesture by a stoic Mitchum Huntzberger.
"I -" Rory tried to fish the words out of her hurt stricken brain, "He –"
"It's not the best day for him." Mitchum managed a mild smile, "He'll come to you when he's ready."
~W~
The wooden head of the vintage golf club felt heavy in his palm. Its smooth craving firm and cool, a perfect balance of weight and elegance. The metal plate set into the wooden head had numerous dents once made by the force of a swing, although Logan knew for sure the man who owned it never waved it.
They don't make this kind of club anymore—a collector item.
A hesitated clear of the throat draw his attention away to the female figure at the door of the study.
"Husband."
Logan had spent countless hours in this room throughout his life. Sometimes in comfortable silence, at times passionately debating one point or another, playing chess, or getting shit-face drunk with the group of his childhood friends during a sub-party.
Tonight, he retired to the study to check-in if his son got home okay.
"Ex-wife." He counters back deliberately.
"Charming," Chelsea commented dryly.
"I try."
"Feel free to take it." She mentions at the club in his hand as she took the liberty to enter the study. Her feet march towards the liquor cabinet without further ado—the trusted supplier of many sub-parties during political and social events.
"Nah, I really hate golf." He placed the club back into its rightful place in the leather bag. For someone who hated golf as much as he did, he had found himself on the green more than he cared to.
Bringing Aiden along has spared him the actual need to participate. The boy was content to play-driving the golf cart making vroom-vroom noises under his father's watchful eye while Aaron Rosen mastered the 18th hole.
"Suit yourself. I was never allowed to look at it, never the less touch it. I will probably sell it to the highest bidder on E-bay." She looked disappointed at the label on the Maker's Mark bottle she finds there. "My dad has an appalling taste in Scotch."
"That's bourbon." Logan corrected out of habit.
"Will it get me drunk?"
"Probably."
"Then it'll suffice." She pulled on the cork-made cap and poured a generous amount in a brandy glass, "What a day, huh? I wonder how many people in attendance actually liked him, or they just showed up to save face."
She turns to him, her glass fuller than it should be. Logan schools a stoic expression on his face.
"Right. Too early to joke about that." Chelsea flopped down into the worn-out leather sofa in Congressman Rosen's home study. Her feet easily found the top surface of the coffee table. "Cheers!"
Xx
Van Morrison's greatest hits album was the last playlist Aaron Rosen played in his study. Chelsea says her father had an appalling taste in alcohol, but his musical choices were decent.
"Do you remember when he caught us? Oh man, his face when he realized it was you. God, he was so embarrassed. He wouldn't even look at me for three days in a row." Tears of laugher rolled out of her as she recalled the incident.
"It was your idea." Logan's head leaned back on the back of the couch. His sock-covered feet next to hers on the coffee table, having kicked off his dress shoes.
"I don't recall you objecting."
"I was sixteen and and fresh kicked out of all-boys boarding school, I was hell-bent on having sex that summer no matter who it was with." Then, he turns his head toward her, "It just happened to be with you."
"Jerk." Chelsea jabbed his ribs playfully with the edge of her elbow and looked down at her empty glass. "Aww. Empty. I think I'm drunk."
"I'm glad it was you." Logan said with his eyes close. It was a tiring day; decompressing felt so freeing. He doesn't remember when was the last time responsibility didn't weigh heavy on his shoulder. To just let loose and hell be dammed.
It hadn't happened in years.
"I'm glad it was you too. The funny thing is he was so worried that my promiscuous ways would end me up with teen pregnancy." Chelsea looked thoughtfully down the empty glass, not meeting his eye, "Ironic, isn't it? Years later, he would be ready to cut a limb for me to have your baby."
"Right." He gives her a side look.
"I'm changing my name back to Rosen." Her drunken talking continued, taking no notice of his loaded response, "Been thinking of it for a while. He just died before I could actually do it." "He'd like that."
"Yes. Tammi and I broke up. He'd like that too." She says after a long while of silence, dubbing the butt of a burnt cigarette into a saucer, "I'm moving back east".
"Why?" He asks, guarded.
"It just didn't work out anymore. And I can't leave mom alone, you know? I'm not even sure she knows who she is or what to be without him. I used to think it was best there's only one of me between the two of them… considering…" her musing paused, "I don't know, maybe there would be less disappointment if there was someone else. Now It's just the two of us. Being alone is the worst."
A sentimental expression takes over his features as she rationalized her decision. He would have Honor when his parents die.
"I'm just giving you the heads up. I'm going to be around… in case that complicates things for you…"
"It does." He lets out honestly.
"Thought so." Chelsea offered him one of the thinly wrapped cigarettes.
Logan shook his head in refusal, "I don't do that anymore."
"Why? Because you're a dad, and it's bad for you?"
"Yeah." His face light up, and a smile spread on at the thought of the boy. "Something like that."
"You used to be fun, husband."
"I'm a different kind of fun these days."
Chelsea made a ceremony out of lighting the death stick and blow the first of many perfect smoke rings. "Will I ever get to meet him?"
"No." His answer is firmly decisive.
"Why not?" Chelsea rested her arm against the back of the brown leather couch, "Because she said so?"
Rory wouldn't be thrilled with the notion. Only a few hours ago, it came to his attention his bi-weekly visits were an issue. Logan would be a misguided fool to delude himself there isn't a domestic fight brewing in New York. The news of Chelsea's return to the east coast would not help the current state of affairs.
"Because I said so." Logan wets his lips with a careful sip of Bourbon in his hand, "That's not part of me you get access to."
"You were always the king of divide and conquer." Chelsea took a long drag off the nicotine roll and blew well-practiced rings into the air to mask how offended she was by his uncompromised rejection.
Logan reaches for his phone with a sigh and opens the Photos App. "Just swift to the left."
"He's cute." Chelsea stopped at the family portrait on the beach. A blonde toddler sandwiches the brunette woman as she sits in the circle of her ex-husband's arms. "You look happy."
"He's the love of my life." Logan says softly. He makes a mental note to ask Natalie to have a copy of it made.
Chelsea returns the phone, another round of perfect smoke ring follows as she, once again, let his statement shimmer between them.
The glint of the rings decorating her wedding finger catches his eye, "Why do you still wear these?"
"My therapist says you should wear your war scars proudly." Chelease admires them silently, "They are too pretty not to be displayed."
Logan rolled his head back on the edge of the couch and closed his eyes.
They just sit there, saying nothing.
"Logan," She starts, "do you ever regret us?"
"No, no regrets." He says behind his close eyelids, "There wouldn't be Aiden if it weren't for you."
"And Rory." Chelsea offers timidly.
"Yes, there wouldn't be Aiden without her." He plays the conversation down. Rory is not an easy-breezy topic to discuss at the moment, or with Chelsea out of all people. His emotions are still tangled over their latest disagreement and verbal exchanges.
"Logan," She speaks his name again, fidgeting with her wedding rings, "How did you know that she was..?"
His brown eyes bore into the blue eyes of his ex-wife, asking for more clarity. "Was what?"
Chelsea licked her lips nervously, "…it."
"I.." Logan stops as the first notes of Moondance kick in the background. Her confusion at his pause deepens when a coy smile edges the corner of his mouth. He wets his lips nervously before speaking, "She makes me want to be the guy who'd tango in a gas station."
He never told anyone that.
"That's…" Chelsea twisted her mouth, thinking, "That's so weird. Even for you."
It makes him laugh. Maybe for the first time today. "Thank you."
"No, Thank you." Chelsea offers a soft smile, "I don't know what today would have been if it weren't for you."
Logan shrugged, pouring the last refill of the Maker's Mark. "Everyone needs a friend when the end of the world comes knocking, right?"
Chelsea's smile is all liquid, "I'm going to miss him."
"I know. Me too."
~w~
New York
"Daddy!"
They were not two feet inside when Aiden let go of her hand and run himself into his father's arms so happily. His hands circled his father's neck as he picked him up.
The green-eyed monster consumes all of her, an invisible fist squashed on her heart. Rory wished for a welcome like that. Logan was gone for nearly a week, abruptly, with no warning at all, and that's the welcome he gets?
It's like he had bewitched the boy.
"Hi Sputnik," Logan's smile is as wide as it gets. Radiant like the sun and his dimples popped out, "Did you have fun at the swings? I missed you."
Aiden nodded. Rory discovered that if she picks him up fifteen minutes earlier, then the swings are less busy.
Rory busied herself, moving Aiden's day bag from one hand to another, before fishing out Alfred, the elephant.
"You're home early," Rory said cautiously, trying to leave the tension out of her voice.
"Yeah. I'm home." Logan kissed the blonde mope of their son, giving Rory a side look. "How about we take Mommy and Alfred out for out for ice cream?"
Aiden's head shoots up immediately. Excited. "Co-late."
His affection for sweets was defiantly something he got from his Gilmore side
"Chocolate? Alright."
Xx
Rory sits at the breakfast nook in the kitchen island with her sketchbook open. They never used it for breakfast. It had somehow become her spot. The place where she'd sit and review and edit her work. Her so-called office in which she'd draw project's storyboards in preparation.
Where she'd leave Logan the occasional hurried comics messages on days when they were ships passing at night. They later disappear, and she doesn't know if he keeps them or the housekeeper throws them away.
Logan has his back to her, looking for an appropriate glass for the scotch he intended to open. He's been back for three days, it's the second bottle. And his sleeping pills are unsealed, but their number matches the stated amount on the box.
She counted. He didn't take them.
"Did you sleep with her?"
The words she speaks are like a car skidding on ice. The squeak of the car breaks, the friction of the tires. The inevitable crash that follows.
Logan's hand froze centimeters away from the bottle of scotch. "I'm not going to dignify that ridiculous question with an answer."
"Is it a ridiculous question?" She's skeptical. There's no other explanation as to why Logan hadn't touched her ever since he got back from his stay in Hartford.
His eyes turn to looked at her hardly, "I don't cheat."
The pencil's edge pressed down hard on the page, making a small tear in it. She failed to tell how long she zoned out for, but she can tell her lack of response did not convey that she believed him.
"What is your problem?"
Something in the back of her mind tells her to drop it. That it's not worth the fight.
"You don't get to shut me out. You should have come home."
"I am home."
He is home, and his old wedding ring still sits uninterrupted in the safe. Had not moved a millimeter. Rory had checked. They had also spent a perfect day at Central Park, and Rory took the usual photos of his and Aiden's interaction. He was there. He was present.
She should just ignore the minor changes the camera detected in him. Accept the shadow of sadness passing in his eyes when his mind drifts. Maybe she's imagining; perhaps it was just the light. She should let it slide that for two days in a row, he stayed laying on Aiden's bedroom floor all night long staring at the artificial night-sky that dammed lamp projected.
She should ignore it because that would have been the sensible thing to do.
"I understand the two of share this…" she wills her voice to be confident and hopes it doesn't reveal too much of her insecurities. But deep down, she knows that ship has long ago sailed with her previous question. "If you needed comfort, you should have come to me."
The reappearance of Chelsea sent her insecurities sprawling.
"No, you don't understand. You are never going to understand." She feels the fight builds up in her as Logan speaks words excludes her, "And you don't get to decide what kind of comfort I need when a man who was my f..."
"You have a father, Logan. Mitchum is not dead yet."
They both flinched at how harsh it sounded. The lull in their exchange thickens.
"Baby partner trumps ex-wife. Always." She can't stand the emptiness after her statement.
"You don't get to play the baby partner card when you are dead set against the thought of another kid."
His response hit her like a whip. Rory's mouth moved, but nothing came out. It was as if Logan was just waiting for the opportunity to pick this fight. When did he flip on their agreement to wait?
It took her a moment to find her voice.
"Grief is a strong emotion, and that it clouds things…" She phrased the words carefully, trying to backtrack, "I don't think it's the right time to discuss this."
"Don't psychoanalyze me. When would be the right time to discuss this, huh?" Logan pressed on, twisting a tea towel that previously laid nearby on the counter in his hands, "When you feel gracious enough?"
Blink.
"When you hit a dry spell between projects?"
Blink.
"After you win the god-damn-freaking Oscar?"
Blink. blink.
Rory wets her lips nervously. She wished she had held her tongue and never spoke her mind, "We said we would wait. Why can't you just be patient?"
"I've been nothing but patient."
"No, you've been everything but patient." She shoots back. "Stop changing the rules."
"We're not getting any younger, Rory. If we don't give him a brother or sister then he's alone in the world. Can you imagine all the things he would miss? I don't want him to be…"
"I don't want another kid!" silent disappointment crosses his handsome features at her pushed confession. Rory tries to soften the blow, "Right now, I don't. We agreed."
She loves their life. Everything is perfect. Their communication was never better.
She loves coming home to the string to her kite.
She loves their little family.
"Right." Logan puffed his lips in disagreement. "Because in this relationship, one adult can decide something, and the other is expected to get on with the program. Oh, wait - that only applies when it's you, right?"
"No, that's not how it works. What are you talking about?"
"Did I even made the pro-con list when you decided to put the damn thing in?"
Oh that. Her hesitation is so telling. "It's my body."
"It's permeant, isn't it?"
She can't bear to watch the emotion takes over his face. Disappointment. She'd rather he'd be angry.
"Why? So you'd know whether to unfreeze your embryos and reactivate your Manhattan project?" The words fly out of her mouth before she can control them. "Or, you know what? I've got a better idea - why don't you ask Chelsea if she's up for it? She's the only one who understands."
Regret kicks in the moment her sarcastic suggestions stink the room.
It feels like all the air has been sucked out of it. Logan's jaw locks. His eyes turn black and hollow. Rory knows him well enough - this look is terrible news.
She had stepped right on it on the big, fat abscess.
"I didn't mea… "
"Yes, you did." His voice is oddly emotionless.
They stand staring at each other in deafening silence, at either side of the kitchen, like two opponents in a boxing ring. The ticks of the clock's fingers is like a time bomb. A dull fear bubbles in her stomach.
"Logan -"
"The two of you are exactly the same." He throws the towel down on the kitchen counter sepreating them between and slowly backs away.
Rory feels like a ten pounds hammer hit through her body, shuttering her heart.
~W~
New England
No other cars were on the road, yet Rory couldn't bring herself to disobey the law and run the red light of Stars Hollow's lone traffic light.
Or maybe she needed a moment to reflect on her panicked response.
She looked at her golden wonder through the rearview mirror. Aiden was asleep in his car seat. The boy, unlike his father, could sleep through anything. He never woke when she scooped him out of bed in the middle of the night.
Red light flooded the car. It was just Rory, the midnight sky, and the radio playing a Carol King special. This was her last chance to turn the car around and drive back to New York. If she did, the morning would come, and no one will ever know she had nearly reached her mother's doorstep.
The traffic light turned green, and Rory took the right turn towards her mother's house.
She could retrace her steps, but she couldn't take back her words.
She slammed the car door as quietly as she could while juggling her cranky son in her arms. He woke when she unbuckled him out of his car seat, his little body hit with the cold air of the night.
"Shh.. It's all good. We're at Grandma's." Rory soothed the boy kissing the top of his blonde head, adjusting the pink elephant toy as she carried him up the porch stairs. "Here, hold on to Alfred for me. We don't want to lose him too, do we?"
Lorelai threw the door open before her daughter's hand could touch the handle.
"Rory, what the…?" She tied her robe tighter against her body as she took in the sight of her pajama-dressed daughter and grandson. "Did you kidnap him or something? It's the middle of the night."
It all felt so wrong.
"Mom," Rory's voice cracked with tears. She had run out of words. Words are what brought her to the security of this doorstep.
Their heated exchange, the look on boy's father marched out of the door. Electronic voice informing her the person you have dailed is out of service. It all kept running on repeat in her mind.
"What a jerk." The older woman's arms wrapped her line of succession tightly. Her nostrils fill up with her daughter's shampoo and her grandson's baby smell. "You have me. You'll always have me."
Rory Gilmore cried because she can never have her two L's at the same time.