AN: Okay. I am in need of an intervention. I know. I shouldn't be doing this with two active stories. But, here's the thing. I keep getting people wanting me to write a Rogan wedding in Plans and Happenstances, and I actually want to write it to. But… the wedding plotline I have in my head is such a beast…. It really kind of requires it's own story. So that is what this is. A SHORT little mini fic about the events leading up to our ship's big day and the day itself. Please enjoy.

Also… BIG ****DISCLAIMER**** for this chapter: Mitchum drops a c bomb. I debated long and hard about whether or not to go through with using that word (cause it's a truly gross word), but there just wasn't a better option that was as crass and gross and…. Mitchum in the moment I was writing. So it's there. Be warned. I don't want to hear complaints because I've warned you. In my defense it's not used as a slur… he's actually talking about the physical body part. Anyway… on with the show! :)

Chapter One

Thursday, August 22, 2018

"Maybe we should just elope…"

Rory had never been the kind of girl who dreamed about her wedding. She'd never made a veil out of toilet paper or lined up her stuffed animals to watch her walk down a makeshift aisle in her bedroom. She'd never fantasized about what her flower arrangements would look like or what color she wanted her bridal party in. She'd never made a list of favorite songs or passages from books and/or poems that she wanted to include in the ceremony. And she'd never dreamt about what her perfect dress would look like.

It wasn't that she didn't like weddings. Weddings were fine. Sometimes they were even fun. And it wasn't that she'd never thought at all about the concept of her own wedding. She had. It was impossible not to growing up at The Independence Inn where May and June were booked full of weddings. And seeing Lane, Sookie, Paris, and eventually her own mother married had inspired some kind of reflection on the topic. It's just that it was never all that detailed, and it was always sort of…. abstract.

For a while there was a period of time when Rory had assumed she was never going to get married. She'd been single for so long after college, only having a handful of short lived relationships here and there, and it wasn't exactly as if her relationship with Logan before she'd gotten pregnant was stable enough to inspire fantasies of walking down the aisle. Especially when he was engaged to someone else.

Part of her felt like she was still kind of stuck in that mindset, that she hadn't entirely wrapped her mind around the fact that she was getting married. Everyone around her was moving full speed ahead, but Rory was still suffering from a bit of whiplash. It just all seemed like it was happening so fast.

It had been a month - a single month - since Logan had slipped a ring on her finger on the dance floor at her father's wedding, and since then life had been moving at a breakneck pace. Announcing their engagement had been like opening the gates at the Kentucky Derby, and it seemed that every single waking moment of her life was now filled with wedding plans. Even Facebook and Instagram seemed to have caught on with every other sponsored post she saw bearing headlines like The Ten Best Wedding Venues in New York and Five Dos and Five Don'ts For Your Big Day.

Of course, it didn't help matters that her grandmother was the one and only Emily Gilmore. The word 'congratulations' had barely passed through the woman's lips before she was busting out a day calendar and getting to business. They'd already booked a venue for the engagement party and sent off an order for invitations. They were looking at photographers for engagement shoots (something that Rory always thought was cringeworthy but her grandmother insisted on so that they could send out 'appropriate' save the date notices).

She'd already booked a week-long trip to New York. A week-long trip that she would be spending in the guest room at Rory and Logan's house. A week-long trip to look at venues, pick caterers, and, of course, start dress shopping.

She hadn't even started her actual dress shopping, and she was already tired of dress shopping.

And Rory liked shopping.

"Only if you want my mother to hate you," her blonde companion replied, turning a dress around in her hands so that it was facing Rory. "What about this?"

Rory scrunched her nose and shook her head.

"No. It's too… pink…" she said. "And your mother already hates me."

"Fair point."

"I mean this is ridiculous," said Rory, the frustration of the day starting to get the best of her. "I am seriously standing here shopping for a dress to wear to go shopping for a dress."

"I thought this was for your engagement party…"

"No," Rory replied with another sigh and a roll of her eyes. "Though... I need something for that too now that you mention it."

She'd lost count of how many new dresses she was expected to purchase at this point. When she'd first started planning, she had been naive enough to think that she only needed one. A big fancy one. A single - very expensive - white dress. It had never even occurred to her that the big dress was only the last in a very long string of other dresses that would soon be entering her wardrobe. Engagement party. Engagement photos. Wedding Shower. Dress shopping. Bachelorette party.

Her wardrobe was severely lacking these days. She was in pretty good shape, but there was no denying that giving birth to Ellie had changed some things about her figure. Her hips were a little wider than they had been, her breasts larger, and then there was the stomach pooch that she couldn't seem to get rid of no matter how hard she tried. Logan, of course, denied its existence and called her crazy, but Rory knew it was there. She knew it was there because she had a hard time fitting into her prenatal wardrobe.

"What if I just wear that navy blue fit and flare dress that I wore the last time we went to dinner? The one with the boat neck?"

"If you wear Ann Taylor to the bridal salon at Saks, you might finally kill my mother. She'd be done in. She'd have a coronary or an aneurysm. We'd be spending the rest of the afternoon at Columbia Presbyterian."

"What's wrong with Ann Taylor?" Rory asked, glancing down at the emerald green camp shirt currently tucked into her dark wash jeans.

It wasn't the first time Rory had been left completely confused about Honor's fashion opinions. She knew the store was hardly couture, but in her mind it had always been nice. In fact, there were plenty of days in her younger years when she considered it to be too nice. Though, apparently it wasn't up to the Huntzberger standard. But, then, most things weren't.

"I can't believe you even need to ask me that," Honor replied with an incredulous expression. Apparently, she was on the verge of an aneurysm herself. But, if she had yet to even notice that an Ann Taylor blouse was wrapped around Rory's upper body at that very moment, then Rory still failed to see what was so bad about it. Besides, the only reason Honor even knew that the dress she was referring to was Ann Taylor was because she'd complimented it.

"I don't understand why your mother has to make a whole affair out of this…" Rory continued, changing the subject back to the matter at hand. "I was perfectly fine with a simple casual shopping trip. Nothing fancy. Just low key. In fact, that's what I wanted. I don't even want to go to Saks."

"The Huntzbergers don't do low key, Rory," said Honor. "You should know this. You're about to become one."

"Actually, I'm keeping Gilmore."

The incredulity on Honor's face only grew.

"Okay… well that's a conversation for another time…" she said, placing the dress she'd picked up back on it's rack and giving Rory her full attention. "But, seriously, Rory, the thing you need to understand about Shira is that there is nothing worth doing if she can't make a whole event out of it."

Rory rolled her eyes. She let out an audible groan and her shoulders slumped in defeat as Honor went on.

"This isn't just about shopping for your wedding dress, okay?" the blonde continued. "It's about brunch at Tavern on the Green, and day drinking mimosas, and being seen hopping from the most elite bridal salons in the city one after another and taking a ton of pictures for social media so all of her admirers can see how happy she is to be planning her baby boy's wedding and how much she loves spending time with her future daughter-in-law."

"She doesn't love spending time with me," Rory reminded.

"Sincerity has no currency in Shira-land."

That was an understatement.

There were many things that Rory didn't understand about her future mother-in-law. In fact, there were too many to count. But, the thing that baffled Rory more than anything else was why she was so insistent on pretending that they liked each other. Even in private. Rory knew that Shira resented the fact that she was marrying Logan. And Shira knew that Rory had no interest in having a relationship with her after all the hurtful things that had been said to her over the years. To her face. And, yet, for some unknown reason, every time they got together Shira would insist on behaving as though they were the best of friends.

Rory was just as happy to limit any and all communication to mundane pleasantries and keep a reasonable distance. It wasn't an ideal relationship, but at least it was honest. Anything else was a farce.

In the end, that was what was so frustrating about the last four weeks. All of it felt like such a farce. The forced congratulations followed by public displays of enthusiasm. The insistence on so many over-the-top events before the day arrived. The discussion of acceptable caterers and musicians and photographers and the insistence that everything was going to be so wonderful. It was one thing coming from her grandmother, but adding Shira to the equation just felt so odd.

It felt like she was the passenger in someone else's car. A passenger sitting in the backseat with a blindfold on. Who didn't even know what the destination was.

"Look… as someone who has been a Huntzberger for thirty-nine years and who has lived through planning a Huntzberger wedding before, let me give you a piece of sisterly advice…" said Honor, placing a hand over her heart. "Just… surrender to it. Your life will be so much easier if you just learn to go with the flow. Divorce yourself from the idea that your wedding is about you. It's not. I'm telling you… you'll be a lot happier if you just accept that now rather than spend the next few months fighting it."

Rory didn't get much of an opportunity to respond - not that she would have much to say even if she did. Before she could formulate a thought, she was interrupted by a frustrated and juvenile grunt coming from just a few feet in front of her. She looked down just in time to see a pink plastic sippy cup rocketing toward the ground and a pair of tiny strap sandals kicking rapidly in the air as if trying to break free from the confines of the stroller they were strapped into.

She bent to pick up the cup, and as her daughter came further into focus she noticed that Ellie's was wiggling with as much force as she could possibly pack into her two foot tall little body. She sighed again and looked over her shoulder, noting the lack of personnel standing around and making a decision. With a press of a couple buttons, Rory was setting her free. She placed her down on the ground and straightened out her white eyelet dress before letting her go, much to Ellie's vocal delight.

"But, hey, on the bright side…" Honor continued, her tone changing into one of genuine positivity as she watched her niece toddle over to a sparkly sequin dress hanging on a rack next to her.. "The handsy ambassador from Luxembourg died a couple years ago. So at least you don't have to worry about that."


A loud thump startled Logan out of his trance, causing him to jump a few millimeters out of his seat and turn his attention away from the view outside his office window. With a light push of his foot, he swiveled his chair around, moving so that he was once again facing his desk. And, when he turned, his eyes landed on the figure of his father standing on the other side of his desk with his hands in his pockets and a thick stack of papers wrapped in a manilla envelope sitting on his desk.

He flicked his eyes down to the document his father had just thrown at him and then back up at the older man, his head tilting in confusion as he tried to figure out exactly what was going on. Bracing himself for the worst, he set his phone down and scooted forward, pulling himself closer to his desk and the mysterious pile of paperwork.

"What's this?" he asked, opening up the folder to expose the legal document inside.

"It's your pre-nup."

Sure enough, as soon as the first page of the document in question was exposed, his eyes landed on the bolded and underlined words 'Prenuptial Agreement' printed in all caps Times New Roman at the top center of the page.

"That's funny…" he replied, leaning back in his seat and looking at his father with a furrowed brow. "I don't remember meeting with an attorney."

Mitchum smirked at his cheeky response, but continued on unbothered.

"I went ahead and had Howard draw something up. Thought I'd save you the hassle," he replied with a shrug.

Logan sighed. But, somewhat miraculously, he was able to keep himself from rolling his eyes at his father's hubris. He wasn't exactly sure why, but for some reason his parents seemed to be far more involved in his engagement to Rory than they ever were in his engagement to Odette. There were a few possible explanations for that of course. It could just be geography. The mere fact that he lived on the same continent naturally made getting involved a lot easier. It could be because Rory had already essentially been a member of the family for the last year, so they felt a little bolder butting in. But, in truth, he wasn't sure either of those explanations were the right one. And it made him more than a little suspicious.

"Dad…" he said with a shake of his head, leaning forward with his arms crossed over his desk. "I have my own attorney."

"Did Colin pass the New York bar?" Mitchum asked with a twitch of his eyebrow.

"I'm not talking about Colin," said Logan, unable to suppress the eye roll this time around. "But... yes. He did."

"Look, there's nothing surprising in here," said Mitchum, reaching down to tap his fingers against the stack of papers. "It's pretty much the same thing we drew up for you and Odette."

"Well… that would be great if I was still marrying Odette. But, I can think of a couple reasons I might want to make some changes…"

"We covered custody arrangements, if that's what you're worried about."

That was, in fact, one of the things he was worried about. But hearing that his father and his father's attorney had sat down without him to consider such a thing wasn't exactly a comfort - especially considering the fact that Mitchum's idea of an ideal custody arrangement would be one weekend a month and every third holiday…. if that.

Logan would actually like to see a little more of his daughter in the event that something happened between him and Rory.

"Dad…" Logan said. "This is none of your business. I don't know what made you think that this was something that you should do on your own. But - "

"I did it on my own because I don't trust you to do it yourself," Mitchum replied.

Logan blinked at him.

"Excuse me?" he asked.

Strangely enough, it had been a long time since he had felt so… patronized by his father. For the most part, Mitchum tended to leave him alone. There were times when he would look over his shoulder a little too much when it came to work, but he rarely involved himself in his personal life anymore. A move like this was so far out of left field that Logan didn't really know where to begin. And for the man to suddenly claim that he was untrustworthy was just… baffling. He'd been trusting Logan with an awful lot as of late.

"And why exactly do you feel as if I can't be trusted to do this myself?"

"Do I really need to answer that?" Mitchum asked, shooting him an expression of pure incredulity.

Logan actually had a feeling that he did know exactly what his father was going to say, but he was in a bit of a combative mood at the moment, and he wanted to make him say the words out loud so he could hear for himself how big an ass he was. Though, to be fair that would probably require a level of introspection that Logan wasn't sure his father was capable of.

"Yes," said Logan, putting on a show of obliviousness. "Yes, Dad. I do need you to answer that as a matter of fact."

"Fine," Mitchum replied, happily. He'd clearly caught on to Logan's little game. "I don't trust you to do this yourself because when it comes to Rory you have a tendency to turn into some cuntstruck - "

"Okay!"

" - teenager who doesn't know his ass from his elbow and will let himself get trampled over - "

"Dad…" Logan warned.

" - and taken advantage of in some inane gesture of love or whatever bullshit you want to call it."

"Wow," Logan interjected again. "Mom's a real lucky lady, isn't she?"

"What does your mother have to do with this?" Mitchum asked.

The funniest thing about the question was that it looked as if it was entirely genuine, and Logan was once again reminded that self-reflection was not his father's strong suit. Nevertheless, it didn't take very long at all for Mitchum to overcome his temporary confusion and get right back to the matter at hand.

"Look, Logan, you're thirty-seven years old -"

"Thirty-six."

" - don't be so naive. I know you love Rory. I know that. And this may be hard for you to believe, but I'm happy that you're happy. I really am… but the two of you already have a… tumultuous history. Let's not pretend that you're walking into some fairy tale where nothing could ever possibly go wrong…"

Logan took a deep breath. He wanted to sit there and tell the man off. He wanted to remind him that he wasn't upset about the fact that Mitchum was advising him to get a pre-nup as much as he was about the fact that he'd already gotten the family attorney's to draft one up for him without talking to him about it first. But, there was a tiny nagging voice at the back of his head that was telling him that wasn't entirely true.

It had been a month since he proposed - an entire month - and he still hadn't broached the topic with her. He and Odette had started talking about it the next day. His father had started making little comments weeks ago, but he always let the subject drop. There was more to his displeasure than just feeling patronized.

He was nervous.

He knew that his family was going to insist on a pre-nup. He knew that it was expected of him. He just didn't know how to broach the topic with Rory. He didn't want her to think that he cared more about his money than he did about their marriage. He didn't want her to think that he had legitimate concerns about their ability to stay together. He didn't want to pressure her into doing something that she wasn't comfortable doing.

But, he also knew that he wasn't going to be able to avoid the topic forever.

"Just talk to her. Look it over," his father said, drumming his fingers on the paperwork again. "If there's anything you want to change, you have Howard's number."

"Again… I have my own attorney, Dad - "

"Is this from Chris' wedding?"

Logan almost had whiplash from the abrupt change in conversation. Somewhere between thrumming his fingers on the document sitting on his desk and Logan's interjection, he had picked up a silver picture frame that had been recently added to Logan's desk. Inside was a candid photo of Ellie laughing in front of a rose bush outside the church where his father-in-law-to-be had just gotten married, dressed in her flower girl dress and standing in a bright beam of sunlight.

"Uh...yeah," he replied while watching the smile grow on his father's face.

"You have any more copies?"

"I can… email you one..." he replied.

"Send it to Gail. She'll take care of it," Mitchum replied, referring to his executive assistant. He set the picture frame back down where he had found it and turned to walk out of the room, looking over his shoulder at him as he walked. "Let me know what Rory says. I'll talk to you later."

With that final farewell, Mitchum walked through his office door as swiftly as he'd come in. Logan was left sitting there, silently reeling from the exchange as he looked down at the stack of papers still sitting on top of his desk.

After thirty-six years, it was still happening to him. Thirty-six years and nothing had changed. He could sit here and try to deny it. He could delude himself into thinking that he'd been able to speak his mind. That he'd made his position clear to his father. But, after thirty-six years there was no denying the feeling that was settling in his gut at that very moment. He knew the feeling well.

He'd just been Huntzbergered.


Logan barely had time to step through the front door of his house and close it behind him before his ears were assaulted by a loud and prolonged shriek. And yet, despite it's sheer volume and the shrill tone, his immediate reaction at hearing the sound was to smile wider than he had all day, especially when he heard the thumping sounds of tiny footsteps accompanying it.

"Aaaah Dada!"

He quickly set his briefcase down on the floor against the wall and lowered himself so that he could scoop up the pigtailed toddler rushing toward him. He slipped his hands underneath her armpits and lifted her up in the air, tossing her ever so slightly before catching her again.

"Hi, sweetpea!" he greeted before placing a kiss on her cheek and hugging her close. "Mphf. I missed you."

Ellie giggled for a moment and tossed her little arms around his neck, but after a couple seconds it became clear that she either didn't share his sentiments or she had the shortest attention span known to man. Mere milliseconds after she had run to him and jumped into his arms, she was squirming to get away from him. Her little hands were pressing firmly against his chest, and she was wiggling her hips as if to maneuver herself down his body and back on to the floor.

Logan took the hint. He put her down and watched as she toddled right back over to the mass of toys spread across the parlor living area, landing in front of the play table she'd gotten for her birthday and slapping her hands against the brightly colored piano keys on the side. He walked into the room behind her, taking care to avoid the perilous Duplo infested landscape, and his head turned to the right to see his fiancée standing in the kitchen between the counter and the island.

Fiancée.

He still didn't get tired of thinking it or saying it. Even after his frustrating conversation with his father that afternoon.

"Hey," he said as he crossed through the dining area and made his way over to her. She glanced over to him, smiling at the sight of him for a quick moment before returning her attention to whatever she was doing on the counter.

"Hey," she replied. "How was your day?"

The automatic reply of 'fine' caught in his throat as he remembered the stack of papers currently sitting in his briefcase. Instead of answering right away, he sighed and considered how exactly he wanted to broach the subject. Or if he wanted to broach the subject.

"It was…." he said, trailing off to slide a hand across her back and press a chaste kiss on her lips. "...interesting."

"Interesting?" Rory asked with a twitch of her eyebrow as he broke away from her and made his way over to the dry bar in the dining area. "That doesn't sound good."

"It's not bad…per se… It's just… interesting," he replied. He reached up to the top shelf and pulled down a half drunk bottle of Balvenie. He uncorked the bottle and grabbed a rocks glass from one of the shelves against the wall, pouring himself about two fingers before deciding that was probably enough. "Do you want something to drink?"

Rory looked up at him again for a moment, considering.

"I guess a glass of wine wouldn't hurt," she responded, prompting Logan to walk over to the wine rack and pull out a bottle of the Malbec she'd been favoring lately. "So… do you want to tell me what was so interesting about your day? Or do you get some sort of weird pleasure out of being vague?"

Logan tilted his head to the side and arched his brow as he poured Rory's glass of wine. It wasn't exactly a conversation he was excited about starting. In fact, it was a conversation that he'd been avoiding since the night he proposed, but one that had been hovering over him like a harbinger the entire time nonetheless. He knew he was going to have to broach it eventually, he just thought he'd have a little more time.

"My dad dropped by the office today…"

"Uh oh," Rory replied with an amused chuckle. "Nothing good ever came of the phrase 'my dad dropped by the office today.'"

Logan smiled at her. He stood there for a few seconds, just watching her as she flipped through a stack of take-out menus that she stored in one of the top drawers of the island. The action was as close as she got to preparing a meal, and Logan couldn't help but feel relieved that he wasn't going to have to cook tonight.

"I'm really craving some pad thai…" she said, holding up a menu from Lantern.

"Sounds good to me," he replied with a shrug. "How was your day?"

Rory looked over at him again, her eyes narrowing in suspicion.

"You're stalling…" she said before picking up her phone and pulling up her Grubhub app.

"I'm not stalling," he replied, defensively. Though, by her expression she clearly didn't believe him. "I'm just asking how your shopping trip went."

"Fine," Rory responded with a sigh. "Though, Ellie ended up with more clothes than I did."

"Naturally."

"Logan…" Rory, prodded, eliciting a groan of defeat from deep within his chest. He took a deep breath and braced himself against the counter, holding on to the white granite countertops for dear life.

"He stopped by to drop off some pre-nup paperwork," said Logan.

Rory didn't react right away, although he did notice that her thumbs stopped moving over the screen of her phone for a moment. Eventually, her eyes flicked up to his again, and he tried his best to convey how sorry he was with an apologetic expression.

"He…" she said, trailing off at the end. "...okay…"

"I know we haven't really talked about this," said Logan, taking a trepidatious step closer to her. "And - trust me - I'm pissed that he did this without talking to us. So, if you want I can tear them up and tell him to fuck off."

"No. I…"

It seemed that Rory was still gathering her thoughts. She set her phone down on the counter, giving the issue at hand her full attention. She lifted a hand to her face, rubbing some of the tension out of her eyes with her finger and thumb.

"I just need a second to think about this," she said.

"Okay," Logan replied. A silence settled between them with only a grating synthesized rendition of Old McDonald and the sounds of baby squeals echoing through the air from a few yards away. "Do you want to make a pro/con list?"

He'd meant the question to be a light ribbing, one that might lift the mood ever so slightly, but it seemed that his fiancée wasn't exactly in the mood to be teased. She looked at him reproachfully before letting out a sigh.

"Do you want a pre-nup?" she asked.

It was the exact question he had been dreading. The truth was that he wasn't opposed to the idea. To him, it was just something you did when you got married. It was the norm, and more often than not it was a good idea. Though, he was also perfectly aware of the fact that Rory didn't exactly look at the issue in the same light. The topic was much more loaded in the world she'd come from.

"I want whatever you want, Ace," he said. It was the truth. Yet, judging by the look on her face, she didn't exactly seem to believe that he was speaking his entire mind.

"But you think it's a good idea," she said.

"I think it's…." he trailed off and looked up at the ceiling as if searching the heavens for inspiration. "Not a bad idea."

Rory took a deep breath and started nodding her head. Logan could see the gears turning in her mind. He could see her discomfort with the idea. And he knew that if he didn't do something about it soon, this might not be the pleasant night he was hoping it would be.

"Look, I meant what I said," he started, taking a step closer to her and placing his hands on her arms in a comforting gesture. "Say the word and I'll tear it up and tell my dad to fuck off…"

"But?" Rory asked, looking at him expectedly.

"What but?" he asked.

"It just sounded like there was a 'but' on the end of that sentence."

This time it was Logan's turn to take a deep breath.

"But… I don't think it hurts to take a few days and think about it," he said, triggering a disbelieving scoff to fall from his fiancée's lips. "Rory, listen to me. I don't plan on ever needing to use this pre-nup, okay? I don't plan on ever leaving you. I want to spend the rest of my life with you, and I don't take that lightly. But…"

"There's that but again," Rory chimed.

"But I don't plan on dying young and leaving our daughter an orphan either. And we still have a will."

Something about that statement seemed to disarm her. Her defensiveness started melting away, and he could tell that the rational part of her mind - the one that so loved objectivity and logic and practically was starting to see his point. It might even be on the verge of convincing her that he was right.

"I guess it doesn't hurt to think about it," she eventually said.

"That's all I ask…" Logan replied, gently. He pulled her close and sighed for the umpteenth time since the beginning of this conversation.

These moments weren't exactly what he'd been envisioning when he decided to go buy and ring and ask her to spend the rest of her life with him. It was easy to forget about the technicalities of it all in the heat of the moment. The legal stuff. The planning. The familial dynamics. The meddlesome parents and grandparents and their exceptionally high standards.

He knew that Rory had it so much worse than he did. Unfortunately, it was 2018, and they still lived in a world where the brunt of the wedding planning ended up on her shoulders. All he had to do was meet with an attorney and make choices whenever he was asked for his opinion. It was Rory who was up to her ears in the stress of it all - the stress of planning a wedding that would be acceptable to his family. And he knew that it wasn't ever something that she'd particularly cared that much about to begin with.

"Remind me why we're doing this again?" he asked, hoping to commiserate a little bit with her and subtly communicate that he understood how she was feeling.

Rory, thankfully, laughed. He felt her shoulders shake slightly against his chest, but she soon pulled away from him. Not far. Just far enough for her to look into his eyes and slide her hands up to cup the side of his face. She pulled him down in a kiss, a kiss vastly different than the one he'd give her when he walked into the kitchen. It was a kiss full of passion and romance and promise. A kiss that seemed to say 'because I love you' without having to utter a single word.

"Oh yeah…" he said as she pulled away, pressing his forehead against hers and looking down into her eyes for a moment.

The mood had completely changed. All the tension and the exhaustion that had been filling up the space between them just seconds ago had dissipated, and it felt as if they were both reminded of the fact that getting to the light at the end of the tunnel they'd stepped into was well worth the brief walk through the dark.

He leaned down to capture her lips with his once again, not quite ready for the moment to be over. Yet, as was often the case in the last year, it seemed like life had other plans.

"AH Hahahaha! AH Hahahaha! Elmo loves to laugh!"

The robotic voice cut through the air between them, ruining the mood entirely and inspiring some laughs of their own. Logan turned his head to the left and caught sight of Ellie sitting on the floor, shaking the plush red muppet in her arms with all of her might. He then threw a glance at the microwave against the wall, noting the time and realizing that it was getting close to the toddler's bedtime.

"I'll take care of the munchkin, if you order the food," he said.

"That's the best offer I've gotten all day," Rory responded, euphorically. "Volcanic chicken?"

"You know me so well," Logan confirmed with a smile.

He kissed her one more time before walking out of the kitchen and toward the little girl sitting on the floor lost in her own world. A little girl who definitely wasn't going to be very happy once she heard the next words out of his mouth.

"Come on, little miss," he said, scooping her up in his arms again. "I smell a real stinky girl who needs a bath."


TBC...

AN: There we have it. Chapter one. Please review!