RATING: Still G.

SPOILERS: Up to and including "Emily Says 'Hello'"

DISCLAIMER: Not mine. All characters are property of ASP and the WB. It they were mine threw wouldn't be a three week Logan drought.

NOTES: So sorry about the your/you're issue last chapter. I don't have a beta reader as I tend to change things around right until the second I post it. For example, initially, in Part one there was no Paris. There was, however, a Stephanie. Then I realized that Stephanie was coming across as a little too Alexa from From Justin to Kelly (which, seriously, is way underrated). That seemed like something of an insult to ASP so out came Stephanie and in went Paris who I find somewhat difficult to write. I will try to do better but don't hesitate to call me on any more mistakes.

Thank you for all the reviews. I've been away so it's nice to know that people are still willing to read my stuff.

A couple of people inquired about the title. It's from a song by The Unicorn's (who I love because in addition to making kick ass songs their CD notes include the words "Kill Jenny from the Block," which amuses me). Which song it's from I don't remember right now. I think it might be "Inoculate the Innocuous" but I'm not sure. I lent the C.D. out but I'll check when I get it back. The full lyric is "pop, pop, pop goes the ceiling of routine" which clicked with me. Rory's used to being a certain person and Logan's going to shake that up. Pop the ceiling, so to speak.

Sorry. Longest Authors Notes ever. Enjoy.

Two: Playing All Sides

Friday night dinner had, once again, been something of an ordeal. Not quite as trying as the aptly titled 'meat market' of last week, but still pushing the dial on Rory's stress-o-meter into the danger zone. To start with, she still had the tiara, necklace and earrings she'd worn last week and intended to return them. The thought of transporting thousands ("Hah," Paris had snorted, "try millions.") of dollars worth of diamonds from New Haven to Hartford, without an armored guard, or even a sufficiently viscous German Shepard, incongruously named Tiny, was more than daunting. Her imagination ran wild with scenarios of highway pirates, none of whom were very Johnny Depp-like or even Orlando Bloom-y.

Next, she was pretty sure her mother would be there. While that would ordinarily be a comfort mother and daughter had left things on an awkward note last weekend. Lorelai had been incredulous at Rory's insistence that the party had not been that bad and even more shocked over the Dean breakup and Rory's okay-ness with it. The fact that Rory had neglected to return her mother's call on Wednesday had probably exacerbated the situation.

Then there was Richard and Emily themselves. Rory wasn't entirely sure what she should say to them. They had manipulated her shamelessly but she knew that their actions, however misguided, had been done out of love.

Oh, was that the time? Rory realized she had better get a move on. Tonight, of all nights, it would not be a good idea to be late.

Her mother was waiting for her next to the Jeep in the driveway. As always, Lorelai did not care if they were late.

"Hey mom."

"I called you on Wednesday."

"Yeah. I know. Sorry. I've been really busy. School and the paper and…" Her excuses were weak and they both knew it.

"And secret societies and ball gowns and champagne, oh my?"

"Mom…" Rory's tone was pleading."

Lorelai sighed. "I know. I'm sorry. I just hate this. I hate that we fight. I hate that you didn't return my call and I hate that I don't know what you're thinking."

"I hate it too." Not knowing what else to say Rory kissed her mom on the cheek and approached the front door.

Lorelai, reluctantly, followed

Conversation over drinks was stilted. Rory and her grandfather made small talk. Yale, the insurance biz and the ramifications of Yassar Arafat's death would have on politics in the Middle East. Lorelai said little and fiddled with the olive in her martini. She and her father didn't talk, not about the important things. She was gearing up to face her mother. To that end, Lorelai excused herself from the pool house a little early.

When Lorelai was out of earshot, Richard broached the subject they had been, up until that point, so carefully avoiding. "About the party. I am very sorry if you felt that we tricked you. That was not our intention. We simply wish for you to widen your social circle. People meet many lifelong friends in their college years."

They had tricked her. But Rory, ever the peacekeeper, decided not to push the issue. Richard was not one to talk about feelings, having grown up in a time and social class which deemed such things unmanly and weak. His used actions to show that he cared be they sharing a newspaper or handing her an envelope "for Fez." An apology was more than she had expected.

"That boy… Dean…" Richard cleared his throat, clearly somewhat discomfited at the prospect of discussing his granddaughter's romantic relationships.

"Grandpa. It's okay. I know that you meant well. Besides it wasn't a total disaster. Only parts of it."

"Yes. Well. What are you working on at the paper?" And so they lapsed into small talk again. But when Richard's valet brought Rory another drink, it was just what she liked: Coke (regular, not diet), with a little bit of ice, and with a lime, not a lemon. She'd never once told the valet how she preferred her drink. He just seemed to know.

The minute she walked into the main house Rory felt the tension. The maids were working double time and seemed mildly terrified. The one who took her jacket from her would not make eye contact and appeared to be debating the appropriateness of a curtsey. She was shown into the living room where her mother and grandmother were sitting, their postures nearly identical, backs ramrod straight, not speaking, not even looking at each other. Rory was glad she'd missed the storm and was not looking forward to the play by play.

"Here Grandma. I brought you're jewelry back. Thank you for lending it to me."

"You're welcome, Rory. I'm afraid I have very little use for them nowadays. Once you're passed a certain age a tiara is impossible to wear well. I'll have Margaret put them away. Margaret. Margaret!"

"Yes Ms. Gilmore?" The maid was very obviously flustered.

"Put these away, please."

"Right away, Ms. Gilmore."

Rory groped for an appropriate conversation starter. 'How 'bout them Yankees?' would hardly go over well with this crowd. Luckily, Emily appeared to be up to the challenge. "So, Rory. Did you meet any nice boys last week?"

Lorelai snorted derisively and Rory winced. Apparently the storm was not nearly over. "Yes, Rory, tell us all about the nice boys who got you intoxicated. Even though it's illegal, unless I've been in a coma, wearing perfect eye makeup, for the last year or so. Or did we move to Canada?"

"Lorelai, don't be such a hypocrite. You and Christopher were pilfering from our drinking cart at a far younger age."

"That's not the point."

"You have a drink in your hand right now! You're hardly a prohibitionist."

"I'm thirty-five years old, mother."

"And Rory is a mature young lady of nearly twenty years. She did not drink and drive. She merely had an enjoyable evening with a few of her peers. That's not a tragedy."

Rory sighed, and resisted the urge to rub her temples. She held up a hand to stop the argument. Both women were clearly just gathering steam and she might as well nip it in the bud. "Mom, Grandma, please," she tuned to her mother. "I'm sorry I was drinking. But you can't take that out on grandma. It was entirely my choice." She gave her mother her best pleading eyes, hoping that she'd get the message and drop the subject. Lorelai did, but something told Rory that it would not be a permanent drop. "To answer your question, Grandma, as a matter of fact I did. That boy, Finn, did you meet him? He…"

The goodbyes were subdued. Throughout the evening Lorelai had talked to Rory and Emily had talked to Rory but Emily had not said a word to Lorelai or vice versa. Lorelai had forgone many a condiment as they were situated closest to Emily on the table and she had too much pride to break her wall of silence. As a result, it took significantly less time to finish the meal.

"Alright kid. We need to have a serious talk, you and me."

"I know. I'll meet you at home."

"I'll swing by Luke's for coffee, you bring snacks?"

"Deal."

"Shall we synchronize our watches?"

"Mom. You never wear a watch."

"I know. But synchronizing watches it so Bond."

"I'd suggest a martini but I'm afraid you'll freak out and send me to a detox center."

Lorelai rolled her eyes. "I'll see you in forty-five, Mary-Kate."

Rory stopped at a place in Hartford as she was fairly sure that Dean would be working at Doose's and entirely sure that she did not want to see him. She loaded up with Doritos, Ben and Jerry's (mint chocolate cookie for her, half-baked for her mother) and gummi bears. The guy at the counter looked at her funny and she realized she was probably over dressed for a convenience store. She paid for her purchases, thanked him and returned to her car. Rory dug her cellphone out of her purse. It showed five missed calls. This was somewhat odd. Rory wasn't generally what one would call a social butterfly. She checked the numbers. The first two she recognized. The last three were from the same number and it was not familiar. She checked for messages. The first was from Lane telling her about a gig the band had coming up and would Rory like to come? The second was from Marty. He wanted to get together and study. The third one was from Logan and said simply, "Hey there, Ace. I told you I could get it." She could hear an obnoxious techno beat in the background.

Rory rolled her eyes for the benefit of no one. Logan Huntzberger was far too smug. Someone should really do something about that.

The fourth caller did not identify themselves, but the accent was distinctive, and the same song was playing. "Logan Huntzberger, our dear friend and esteemed colleague, is usually a consummate host. Naturally, we, that is Colin and I, were quite shocked when he eschewed protocol and good manners and snuck into his bedroom to make a phone call. What, or who as it turned out, could be so important, we wondered? So we arranged for a diversion, snuck in here and pressed redial. Cute message. Very…" here he stopped talking and there was a commotion in the background. Someone yelped out an 'ow!" and then the line went dead.

She'd heard from stooges one and two. Bets on who the third caller from that particular phone number was from? "Hi, Gilmore. It's Colin. Sorry about that last message. My Aussie friend wouldn't know a point if it slapped him upside the head. We'd like to extend an invitation to out little shindig. Mackinnon Hall. Fourth floor. We'll be here all night. I brought the good scotch."

Hmm. Perhaps tonight would be a good night to vanquish some smug of the Huntzberger variety?

"So," Lorelai started talking the instant Rory walked into the house,I stopped and rented us a movie. Abandon: starring Joey Potter as a whacked out Ivy League co-ed falling for hot cop with issues while being stalked by hot rich British ex-boyfriend."

"You should write the taglines on the movie posters. But I'm not staying the night."

"Oh?" Lorelai tried masking the hurt in her tone, "Why not? Big paper?"

"Not exactly," Rory made a face and plopped down on the couch next to her mother. "You're not going to like it."

"Why? Did my mother con you into a late night DAR meeting?"

"No. It's just that I got these messages from Logan and Finn and Colin about this party back at Yale…"

"So you're ditching me for a party with the Life and Death Brigade of drunken rich boys?" This time there was no masking the hurt.

"No! I'm not ditching you. I want to talk things over with you. I want you to know what's up with me. I don't want to go to where we were this summer."

"Rory, you're not acting like you."

"No, I'm not acting like the Rory you want me to be."

"What is that supposed to mean?"

Rory squared her shoulders and twisted her fingers in her lap. She took a deep breath and willed the words to come out right. "Do you remember when grandma found out about Luke, from Kirk, and you were talking about making an effort to merge the worlds?" Lorelai nodded, "Well you're never going to do that. You don't like their world. You hated it when you were a kid and you hate it just as much now. You're uncomfortable with the idea that I might like it, or at least part of it."

"Rory. I just want you to be safe and happy. I'm afraid that you'll get hurt."

"And you're afraid that I'll choose theirs over this world." Lorelai's silence confirmed that Rory was right. "Well, you don't have to be. I love our world. I love the festivals and the people and walking barefoot on the grass and eating pop tarts off of paper plates. I love you and the life that you've made for us."

Lorelai sighed and sniffed a little. "All this talk of other worlds is making me feel like I'm at a Trek convention. Just promise me you'll be careful?"

"I promise."

"Well, then. I suppose we'll have to find you something to wear to you're fancy party. What's the theme? Should we make you a flapper? A bobby-sockser?"

"No theme this time."

"Darn. I so want a picture of you in a poodle skirt."

When Rory got to Mackinnon Hall it was past midnight but the fourth floor was still illuminated and music (thankfully of the non crappy variety) was playing. He party was spilling into and out of every room on the floor. She walked past them a couple of them, looking for a familiar face.

"Hey there, reporter girl. Looking for Logan?" The blond girl's intoxicated weaving was as familiar as her face.

"Not really. Stephanie, right?"

"That's me. So you got Colin's message?"

"Among others. How'd you know he called me?"

"I was the diversion. I'm quite good at it."

"I bet."

"You'll find 'em if you keep going. Second last door. Have fun. And killer lipstick, by the way." With a jaunty wave and a graceless stumble Stephanie headed in the other direction.

Rory continued walking and reached the doorway Stephanie had indicated. She peered inside. It was Logan himself who spotted her first. "Rory!" He got up and approached the door, quickly followed by Colin and Finn. He leaned on the doorframe and smirked at her. "Tracking my every move again, I see."

Rory smirked back. "Hardly. Has anyone ever told you you're a wee bit egotistical?"

"You. Every time I see you."

Finn elbowed past Logan. "We invited her, mate." He took her hand and kissed the back of it dramatically. "Rory. You look smashing, as always."

"Thank you."

Colin helped her out of her coat and handed it to Logan. He offered her his arm and she took it. "Let's get you a drink. Later, Logan."

As Colin led her away, she spared a glance backwards at Logan. He was holding her coat, and for a once, looked to be at a loss. She grinned, pleased. She might be a novice at these games, but she was a damn quick learner.