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: To Be With You
AN: I know. I've been a bad updater. There was this other fic that got in my head. Evil voices. I've had this one planned for a while, but just got to writing it today. . . It's sort of the first of a two-part scene, so the next update should be much speedier. Enjoy!
She no longer tried to shift onto her other side in the morning, away from the noise of her alarm clock. Her body had learned, in the past two weeks, that try as she might, there would be one major impediment to her escaping the glaring red numbers facing back at her.
Logan's arm.
He was there in the mornings now. He had kept his word, staying as long as she'd allow him to, instead of using his midnight escape hatch—otherwise known as her window.
There had been other subtle differences. There were no other girls answering his phone. He spent a lot more time studying—or at least with her while she was studying. It was something she couldn't change about her nature; she was going to devote huge chunks of her life to her schoolwork. He supplied her with caffeine and a study break partner.
She smacked her alarm clock this Friday morning, cursing their idiotic decision to stay up half the night watching television before retiring to her bedroom. By the time they'd actually gone to sleep, it'd been nearly four o'clock. Now, at only seven-thirty, the arm that was wrapped around her waist felt like an anchor, and there was no way she could move.
She'd just drifted back to sleep, a record five minutes later, when her dorm phone rang. She let out a sleepy groan, signaling her displeasure. It was clear on the other side of the bed, and there was no earthly way she could retrieve it. She assumed her bunkmate felt the same way she did, and pulled the pillow over her ear to more properly block out the offensive sound.
"Hello?"
It was muffled from the down material between her and his voice filling her room, but she wasn't mistaken—he'd answered her phone. Peeling away the pillow and prying open her eyes, she half turned to face him.
"No, you haven't misdialed. This is Rory's room. … Yes, Rory Gilmore."
"Oh, no," she shook her head, and grabbed for the phone, but missed and ended up running her hand from his neck down to his chest. He looked at her after that, confused from the caller and her actions.
"Excuse me? This is Lo," he began to introduce himself just as Rory succeeded in pulling the receiver out of his hand.
"Hello? No, Mom, he," she squinted and sank back down into the mattress. He got the feeling she wasn't pleased at his actions. "NO! I'm not discussing this right now. What on earth are you doing calling so early, anyway? Yes, I realize it's early, and I'm still not discussing this now."
She smacked his chest, her open palm making a loud sound against his bare chest. He pulled back in surprise, and waited for her to get off the phone. By the time she did, she pulled the covers up over her head and groaned.
"Okay, I'm going to need some explanations. What was with the smacking and grabbing? Not that I don't encourage that normally while in bed, but," he said, moving under the covers with her.
"I can't believe you did that!"
"Did what? Answer your phone? You pulled the pillow over your ear, I just assumed you were calling a 'not-it' kind of deal."
"I was exhausted; I was signaling to you that it wasn't necessary to pick it up."
"You're the one that wanted to watch the Friends marathon on DVD because Joey, and I quote, 'Just isn't the same,'" he said, touching her cheek.
"Well, it isn't. It made me nostalgic for the days of Must-See-TV."
"I still want six hours of my life back. Tonight, you owe me. Cheers, until dawn."
She rolled her eyes, and turned in towards his warm body. "Can't. That was what my phone call was in regards to. Not only do I have Friday night dinner with the grandparents, but my mother is coming back for the first time in months. And she's bringing Luke."
"So, that was your mother, the displeased woman I spoke with just now?"
"She didn't know we—that you might be here," she stumbled over the words.
"That you'd have a sexy man in your room in the morning?" he offered.
"I love how humble you are, have I told you that?" she yawned.
"I thought you wanted your mother back at those insane dinners?"
"I want everyone back on good terms. Mom isn't coming because she's forgiven Grandma. She's coming with Luke, to prove a point."
He slipped an arm under her neck, in efforts to pull her flusher against his body. She wrapped her top leg haphazardly around his and rested her cheek against his bicep.
"So, tonight's going to be bad?"
"Bingo."
"Would it be better for you if I came along?"
She raised her head up a fraction of an inch, surprised by his suggestion. "You're serious?"
He nodded. "Why not?"
"Why not? Logan, you have no idea what you're suggesting. You don't want to go to Friday night dinner."
"Why not? I've met your mom and your grandparents. Your grandparents love me. Maybe with company over, they'll be less hostile."
She laughed, and let her head return to a relaxed state. "You obviously don't know the Gilmore family fighting style. They aren't thrown off by company."
"Let me come. If it gets bad, we'll bail early, and go back to my place for the marathon you owe me."
"I don't want to watch Cheers."
"Then we'll have another kind of marathon," he smiled, moving in closer to kiss her softly. She smiled against his lips, not being able to help herself.
"My mom is going to be on the defensive with my grandmother. And Luke probably still wants to skin you alive from the wedding."
"Do you really want me not to come?" he asked, looking into her eyes.
She sighed. "No. I would love it if you came with me, but it's not a great idea."
"Ace, I thought we were really going to try this. I want to be with you, no matter where that is. Your family is a big deal in your life, and they can't be any worse than mine. We'll consider this starting with the lesser of two evils."
She eyed him carefully, seeing he was still sincere. This was, after all, his idea, and he couldn't hold her accountable when he realized the level of destruction he was walking into. The fact that denying him as he lay next to her in just his boxer shorts, his skin pressed into her equally unclothed body, was damn near impossible was probably clouding her better judgment.
"Okay, if you really want to come, the train for hell leaves at six o'clock this evening. All stragglers will be forced to eat with the servants."
"I'll be here. You have class anytime soon?"
"Nothing I can't miss, just this once," she smiled as she rolled up over him, her hair falling down alongside his face.
"I promise to teach you something much more interesting than any stodgy old professor ever could," he murmured as he leaned up to capture her mouth in a very promising kiss.
XXXX
Colin walked into the suite just as Logan was pulling a dress jacket on over a button-down dress shirt. He looked at him quizzically as he moved to the mini-fridge to grab a soda.
"Where are you going?"
"Out with Rory."
"But it's Friday night. She has those dinners," Colin continued to look confused.
"How on earth do you possibly know about that?"
"I listen when others talk, unlike other people who will remain unnamed in this room."
"Yes, she has the dinner. I'm going with her."
Colin made a choking noise as he attempted not to do a spit take all over the couch. "Are you insane?"
"I'm sorry, are you not the guy that kissed my girlfriend in order to get my head out of my ass, and who gave me the silent treatment until I admitted to her that I wanted to have a serious relationship?"
"I am, but you can't go to dinner at the Gilmore's."
"Why not?"
"This is really how you want your family to find out about Rory?"
"No, this is how Rory's family is going to find out about me and Rory."
"Logan, stop, think. Emily knows your mother. And women in our world, while beautiful and refined, have very little in their lives to do but talk on the phone. Your parents will hear, from Emily's excited joy, that you and Rory are a serious item. Your dad is going to be out here before midnight. And I really don't need him interrupting my evening."
Logan sighed and looked down at his watch. "Shit. I don't have time for this. I have to go meet Rory."
"All I'm going to say is that your only chance of your parents accepting this is if you're the one to tell them. You were the one that talked your dad down after we crashed that boat in Fiji."
"Dating Rory is nothing like crashing a boat in Fiji. Dating Rory is the smartest thing I've ever done. Remember?"
"Ah, a fact evident to your friends, who care about you. To your family, who would have been just as happy with a cloned robot child, not so much."
There was a knock at the door. Both looked to the door, Logan's face much more concerned than Colin's.
"Maybe she called ahead for the place settings, and that's your old man now," Colin interjected.
Logan moved to answer the door, pointing at Colin. "You—not helping."
Colin shrugged, and Logan pulled the door open. He let out a breath of relief, quite audibly, and smiled as he revealed Rory.
"What are you doing, I'm supposed to pick you up."
"But I'm driving."
"Why?"
"Because it's my function, and I would like to know how to operate the getaway vehicle."
"I love how her mind works," Colin laughed.
"Thank you," she acknowledged him. "Big evening planned?"
"Not as big as yours. Hey, anyone seen Finn?"
"Nope, not since this morning."
"Damn. We're supposed be double dating tonight. Twins," he smiled.
Rory made a face, disgusted at the possible implications of why Colin and Finn would enjoy dating twins. Logan laughed, knowing the mental leaps her mind was making.
"Shouldn't we get going?" he asked, putting an arm around her waist.
She looked down at her wrist, noting the time. "Shoot, yeah. Emily hates late arrivals."
"Have fun, kids," Colin called after them, shaking his head all the way into his room to prepare for his date.
XXXX
Rory pulled up outside the mansion, and cut the engine almost silently on her electric car. Logan had to admit, it was a nice car, though he tended to go for the faster, sleeker models of car. He reached for his door handle, and stopped only when she put her hand on his knee.
Turning to face her, he realized her expression was filled with apprehension.
"You okay?"
"I—there's a lot of stuff that you might hear about tonight. I can't ever really predict what might come flying out of anyone's mouth. . . Just know that no matter what is said to you, it's most likely got nothing to do with you. The issues that my family has, they're ancient and unending. Okay?"
He nodded, and interlaced his fingers through hers. "I'm not scared. My family is the same way. This is going to be okay."
She nodded, and smiled. "Okay."
"Uh, I just have one question. Does Emily by chance know I'm coming?"
Rory shook her head, and her free hand went to her forehead. "Oh, shoot. I forgot to call and tell her. And I'm sure Mom wouldn't have told her Luke was coming—oh, this is bad."
"Hey, it's fine. I'll eat off of your plate," he joked, trying to ease her worry that had once again built up at breakneck speed. She didn't look amused. "Seriously, deep breaths. There is enough food in that house and enough servants to have an entire cocktail party at any given time. Trust me."
She let out another deep breath, and nodded. He was probably right. This was not going to be as bad as she had built it up in her mind. Her mom would let the boy answering her phone thing slide, at least until next weekend when she was home alone, and Luke would be trying to make a good impression, also leaving the scene at the wedding alone—and Emily and Richard would be pacified enough by Rory's excellent choice of boyfriend that they would ease off of Luke's presence.
Or at least she hoped.
Maybe there would be a lack of bloodshed at any rate. She was no longer sure of what the best she could hope for was in that house when men were concerned.
"Alright. Let's get this over with," she said, moving to put her hand on the door handle, signaling the start of the evening.
