Disclaimer: I own nothing. Everything up to Jews and Chinese Food is fair game. Past that, it's just where my mind takes over.

Teaser: When Rory and Logan's arrangement goes prematurely sour, his friends take it upon themselves to intervene. Sequel to Keeping it Casual

Story Title: Nothing A Good Friend Wouldn't Do

Chapter Title: Letting People In

A week had passed, and not a day in it did he not find her at some point of her day. It varied, from random coffee carts to the ever-faithful window-scaling, but he always found her. The fact that they'd spent any time apart wasn't spoken of; they were back to their old ways. The only main difference was that now she never saw him near other girls, and the frequency of his visits was higher.

She hadn't seen him yet today. She'd been studying in her room for the last few hours after dinner, and she was exhausted. She closed her books, looking at her window with blurry eyes full of interest before turning out her light. She crawled under the covers, enjoying the weight of them on her body, but wishing it was him instead, willing herself to give into the comfort and not wonder why she'd not seen him yet that day.

She must have drifted off, because the knocking at her door was pushed slowly to the front of her consciousness. She looked around for a moment, wondering if any of the other occupants of the suite would bother to get it. She was sure they were still up, it was only 11:30 after all, but she cringed thinking of what they might be doing to prevent them from answering the door. She got up quickly, pulling her robe on around her, and moved to the common room.

Doyle, wearing Paris' pink silk robe, was standing at the door, staring wordlessly at Logan. The expression on Logan's face was a mixture of horrified shock and ultimate amusement.

"Uh, Doyle, why don't you get back to Paris," Rory rushed to shove Doyle back in the direction of her roommate's room. She pushed him as far as Paris, who upon seeing the situation grabbed her boyfriend and shut their door.

"Wow. You have to see that on a regular basis? You should get some sort of free counseling or something," he cringed, still staring in the direction Doyle had just gone.

"Ah, the damage has been done. I'm beyond emotional scarring at this rate," she shrugged. "Why did you use the door?"

"Isn't that the proper way to be greeted?"

"Nothing in this room is done properly. Did you not just see who answered our door? The window is much safer, a direct route."

"Maybe I was coming to see Doyle."

She grinned, and arched an eyebrow. "'Cause seeing Doyle in a frilly pink thing appeals to you? Maybe you shouldn't be using my window," she chided.

He moved closer to her, and wrapped his arms securely around her waist. "You knew I would come by," he said. "And I like your robe much better."

"You want to wear it later?" she joked, but he looked at her seriously.

"Besides, your room was dark, and I wasn't sure if you were in there, or alone," he trailed off.

"Oh. No, just me."

"Well, good, so there's room for me?"

She smiled knowingly. "Yes, I suppose there is."

"Good, let's retire to your room, then, shall we?"

He took her hand, pulling her back towards her dark room. She hadn't bothered with a light in her hurry. He stopped and turned to face her once she shut the door.

"So, how was your day?" he asked, but didn't wait for an answer before he started kissing down her neck.

"Oh, you know, lots of studying," she managed, angling her neck to help his pursuit.

"They do like the homework here," he agreed, his hands now pulling up on the hem of her top.

"They do," she said before she caught his lips that had come back up and fused to her mouth. She couldn't think, he kissed the thoughts away. She knew they needed to talk, but every time he got near her, she forgot everything with the exception of how good it felt to let him kiss her and make her feel like the only girl in the world.

"What about you?" she asked, as he succeeded in removing her pajama top from her body, leaving her bare from the waist up. She really had been ready for bed.

"What about me?" he asked disinterestedly, running his hands softly over her bare back, making her shiver into him.

"Did you have a date?"

Her question took him off guard. She was in a vulnerable state, and still asking the hard questions. "No, I didn't."

She nodded, and kissed him this time, hard and full of approval. Evidently, he'd told her what she'd wanted to hear. She put her hands on his waist, pulling him backwards towards her.

"Would it have mattered?"

"No, I was just curious."

They still held onto each other, right next to their final destination, but now a real conversation had started. Her lips were swollen, his hair was in complete disarray, but their eyes held the desire to hash this out.

"It wouldn't have bothered you at all?"

She couldn't tell if his tone was anger or frustration. At any rate, he wasn't pleased.

"No, and it's not supposed to. That's what you like about me, remember? Always at the ready, never asking questions?"

"Stop it, Rory." His grip on her arms tightened, and he pulled her closer. He should have kissed her if he wanted her to truly stop talking, a fact that occurred to him too late.

"We can't be back on this again—we've talked about this. You don't want to be serious. You want to be free to date other people, and you can't have it both ways. We have talked about this so many times!"

"And you obviously haven't heard me any of those times!" he said loudly, still right there, too close but not close enough.

"What are you talking about? If you have a problem, you need to tell me straight out, and say something other than that you're jealous. I'm not your territory, Logan."

"The reason I don't want this to be something serious has nothing to do with wanting to date other girls," he said, his tone quieter, trying not to evoke her getting louder as well. If this was going to be discussed, he didn't want anyone to overhear.

"I don't understand," she sighed, trying to pull back out of his grip. He drew her tighter, bringing her in so that there was now no space between them. He bent his head slightly and put his lips to her ear.

"You don't want to get involved with me."

She pulled back so she could look into his eyes again. "I am, Logan. Look around, it's done. I'm standing here, with no shirt on in the middle of the night, arguing about our relationship. I'm involved!"

"No, with me in a real relationship, and my family, and all the obligations—my life isn't as carefree as I project it to be."

"You're letting your family stop you from being with me?"

"It's not as simple as that. My family has plans for me, Rory, and none of them involve my choices or my being happy."

"That's insane," she shook her head.

"That's my family. You make me happy. And as soon as I'd bring you around, they'd start to meddle—I wanted to keep you separate from that. Do you understand?"

"Sort of, but why can't you just buck the system?"

He knew what she was thinking—of how her mother had just up and left with her at a young age, leaving the constraints of the rich and famous life behind. If only it were that easy for him.

"It doesn't usually work that way."

"So, this is doomed. There is nothing you're willing to do to make it work?" tears threatened, making her voice waiver and her eyes glass over.

"I'm doing it, Rory. The best I can," he sat down on her bed, having admitted defeat in a way. He leaned forward, pressing the crown of his head into her flat stomach. She put her hands on his head, feeling his soft hair.

"I'm not seeing anyone else," she managed, wanting to give him something in return. He'd finally given her what she wanted—albeit not what she needed.

"What?" he asked, looking up at her.

She sighed. "I wanted to be with you, too, but I wanted to make it seem like it wasn't a big deal. I'm not good at relationships, and I wanted this to be different, so I just went along with whatever you wanted."

"Why?"

She sat down next to him on her bed, and stared at her lap. "I'm always the one that gets run over when the guy decides that I'm not enough and goes off in search of what he really needs. I didn't want to get crushed by you, Logan. I was trying to keep a safe distance."

'And that's exactly what I am doing to her,' he thought as he reached out and pulled her to him. She let him hold her, and she lie her head down on his shoulder. His lips brushed her temple, and she realized that the so-called safe distance had been severely breached.

"I shouldn't even be letting this happen," she mumbled.

"Shh," he soothed. "Just, let me be here with you, okay?"

She nodded, not moving from her curled up position in his arms. They were silent for a while, both realizing that this evening wasn't going as planned, and wondering how to go on from here. The secrets were out, and they weren't the kind you can sweep under the rug.

"You should go," she said finally, leaning up and looking around the floor for her shirt. She felt exposed suddenly, out of his arms.

"You don't mean that."

Pulling her shirt on over her head, she now turned to look at him from across the room. The moonlight was streaming in her window, a path from the sill to him. It was appropriate, outlining his path of entry and escape.

"I don't have anything else to say, Logan."

"Let me stay."

"For what? I'm not exactly in the mood for foreplay, you should go."

"I don't want to stay, in hopes that you'll want sex later. I want to stay for you."

She swallowed, her mouth going dry suddenly. He just told her that he was unable to do this. It wouldn't work, so she shouldn't encourage it. It would just end badly.

"Don't do this. Don't act like you can do this, you just told me you couldn't."

"I don't know that. Maybe you're right, maybe my family will surprise me. I won't know unless I try, right?"

He was up again, moving towards her. If he touched her, she feared she'd cave.

"Logan," she pleaded, and he knew what she was warning him of—it just spurred him on. Knowing his touch would make her give in made him feel powerful and free.

"Look, even my friends know I am miserable without you. It's insane that I would just leave, and we never see each other again. And I can't see you without needing to touch you. I can't," he said again, putting on hand on her cheek. He stroked it with his thumb, and she closed her eyes at his gentle touch.

"Maybe," she started, opening her eyes slowly, seeing that he meant what he said. "Maybe you should stay for tonight. We'll figure everything else out later."

"Learning as we go?" he hedged.

She barely nodded her head in agreement, and he kissed her. She allowed her mind to shut off, and the wave of emotion to take her wherever it willed. He had no more answers than she did, and they both stood to be proven wrong. They could start on an even keel for once, from here on out, using their passion and need for the other as a jumping point.

For tonight, he would stay, and she would let him in.