A/N: You're all right... writing a cliff-hanger was unfair; I admit that. There won't be anymore of that shifty eyes yeah... no more. Anywho, here is another (fine?) chapter in this adventure of our amiably charismatic heroes. Thanks again for all the reviews; I'm very flattered everyone thinks this is worth it :) Cheers all!
--Pride and True--
Chapter IX: "O happy dagger!"
"So this is how it's going to be?" he asked in a husky voice as the pair approached.
"Dean, you've got it all wrong," Rory responded attempting to avoid what was she was inevitable.
"It sure looks pretty straight forward to me," he retorted, "you and some Yaley uptown rich boy going out behind my back, after you told me you were busy and couldn't possibly come down to Stars Hollow- not even for one night".
Logan stepped forward slightly, "you don't sound half as nasty as you look," he taunted.
"Logan," Rory scolded, "just stay out of this- this is my business".
"Yeah, Romeo, stay out of this or-"
"Or what?" Logan asked casually, smiling somewhat.
"Oh there's a few things I'd like to show you... mostly involving wiping that smug look off of your face," Dean spoke threateningly.
"Dean, we went out to my Grandparents for dinner because I lost a stupid bet," Rory explained, exasperated by the heated direction of the conversation.
"So you'd rather spend time with that over me?" Dean asked, thumbing at Logan.
Rory swallowed and looked down, "the way our last conversation went, I figured we were- you know- not involved or something".
"Wait a second Ace," Logan interrupted, raising his hands, "you actually have a thing going with this sorry excuse?"
She looked up quickly at Logan, and then briefly at Dean, "just- just- this isn't easy to explain Logan".
Logan breathed deeply and stepped back, grinning at Dean all the while, and walked onto the lawn.
"I came here- I drove for what felt like ages, because I knew I'd screwed up. I walked out on you because I was- I was a total moron. I've been on edge lately. The whole town looks at me like I'm some sort of criminal. And the one person I can trust- the one person I'm in love with can't make time for me. So I freaked a little Rory, and tonight I came here to make up for last time. And when I asked Paris where you were, she tells me you're out on a date with some guy," Dean spluttered, "so what the hell is going on Rory? And your answer better be a good one because next time, I won't be coming back".
She swallowed heavily and fought back tears. Now wasn't the time to cave. She wanted to explain everything to him- scratch that, she thought, she had to.
"Look- I've been really busy and distracted with schoolwork and the paper and I can make time with you. I just got confused with the way you left. It hurt Dean, it hurt so much because I'd resigned myself to believing that you'd left for good," she explained, looking away from him.
"Then who's this tool?" Dean shouted, loud enough to gain Logan's attention.
"Dean!" Rory spat, "leave him alone, he's-"
Logan looked up at her, awaiting her response.
"He's-" she continued to stammer.
Perhaps it was the urgency of the moment, but on a whim, it seemed, Logan strolled casually up to Rory's open mouth and planted a small, open-mouthed kiss upon her lips. A kiss that wasn't textbook – didn't stop the world, but one that sent a message greater than any other.
As they parted lips, he stepped back and nodded to Dean, smiling, "O true apothecary! Thy drugs are quick. Thus with a kiss I die".
Rory stood entirely speechless and motionless, as Logan headed silently into the darkness across the lawn. For a moment, she half-expected the pair would break into fisticuffs, but as she turned to face Dean, she noticed a paralysis in his eyes that ended any chances of a skirmish.
"Thus with a kiss I die," she repeated softly, "Romeo and Juliet..."
"If you wouldn't mind Rory, I'd like to go now," Dean mumbled very quietly, almost so, that she could not hear. He brushed past her and began to walk away.
"Dean- I-" she stuttered, "I didn't arrange for this to happen".
He waved mindlessly, over his shoulder, walking away. She didn't stop him. She couldn't. She was locked. Stunned beyond all comprehension. Fortunately her mind had shifted into auto-pilot and was still able to maintain a somewhat natural train of thought.
"Did he kiss me?" she said aloud, pointing to herself.
"Yeah," came a voice in her doorway, "he did".
"He didn't," Rory protested softly, "he wouldn't- he wouldn't have the audacity".
"Apparently he does," the voice retorted in a 'know-it-all' way, "now come on inside, it's cold out here".
Rory's mind jumped from one thought to the next, "Paris," she mumbled, recognising the voice and snapping back to reality slightly, "what just happened here?"
Paris rolled her eyes and grabbed Rory's arm, "get on in here, kid, you've had a rough night that only girl-talk can fix".
Rory stumbled inside the room, plonking herself oddly on a cushy lounge, one leg draped over the arm.
"I take it that was both an insanely good and excruciatingly horrible experience?" Paris asked, seating herself on the adjacent armchair, legs crossed neatly.
"I need a doctor," Rory muttered, "a really good one - one that can prescribe me some sort of mind numbing substance that'll take me out of this joyful nightmare".
"So it's as I thought," Paris continued, "this must be what it felt like when Oppenheimer split the atom – a great day for science, but one that would taint history with the most devastating explosive power of all time".
"Yeah," Rory answered confusedly, "that's exactly what I'm feeling," she continued sardonically, shaking her head slightly.
"He waited for a long time," Paris spoke up, "I tried to get him to come in for coffee but he was all 'no, I'm a big macho man, I don't need no stinkin' coffee!'"
"Which reminds me," Rory began, "why, in the name of all things kept sacred in the Vatican, did you tell him I was 'out on a date with some guy'?"
"Well-"
"You could have told him I went to the dentists; you could have told him I went to get my car's tires rotated; you could have told him I was sick with 'girl stuff in the downstairs department'... any of those would have been fine!" Rory squealed.
"I-"
"And you didn't even give me a 'heads up' call from a concerned friend!" Rory continued, flailing her arms wildly before falling sideways on the couch and sighing.
The pair lounged around, in silence. Paris lowered her head slightly and clutched a mug of coffee, staring seemingly, at the mug's contents, appearing incredibly vulnerable.
Rory was rather ashamed of herself as she observed Paris. It wasn't Paris' fault and she knew it, but the events that had occurred only moments beforehand had entirely spun her usually carefree attitude to life, out of control. Suddenly the stakes were high and she had some serious decisions to make.
"I'll just be heading to bed," Paris said quietly, nodding to her room.
"Paris!" Rory jumped, "wait... I'm sorry. I didn't mean to totally- to vent at you like that".
"It's okay," Paris smiled, "I understand- I went through all this, remember?"
Rory nodded, confused slightly, "but your context was, in hindsight, a lot more serious than mine... you lost a love".
"I don't mean to be self-righteous here," Paris began causing Rory to bite her tongue, "but you're in the same boat".
"What do you mean?" Rory asked softly, narrowing her eyes.
"Gilmore, you've got to ask yourself who you truly have feelings for," she replied seriously, "otherwise you're risking a love too".
Rory sat, dumbfounded by her friend's advice.
Paris nodded and exited the lounge, quietly entering her own bedroom.
Rory sat back, reclining on the couch once more. She loved Dean, she knew that – she had even acted upon that love, in a much more physical way.
But why did her mind constantly float back to Logan? The 'Master and Commander' of her dreams. Why, she thought, had he gone to the trouble of creating the disaster of an event that he had, and surely knew he had.
'You'll love me, and hate yourself for it,' she remembered, closing her eyes silently, attempting to play back, in her mind, the kiss he had implored upon her unsuspecting lips.
She felt a tingle, only a soft one, but something definite, she was sure of.
She kept her eyes closed and rolled over slightly, facing the pillows on the lounge and resolved herself to a tide of sleep that rushed over her.
A/N: Oh noes! Love-triangle! Okay, seriously I'm trying to avoid every cliché in the book, but this one was always part of the plan. Don't worry. I'm pumping these updates out as fast as possible. Stay tuned folks, the next one'll be upped a.s.a.p. :)