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: They Do It With Mirrors
People were disappearing from the main rooms in small, even numbers; their whereabouts to remain hidden for the remainder of the night. Rory was resting her weary head on Logan's shoulder while he rocked her gently back and forth to the slow music that was still playing despite the dwindling crowd.
"Come on, let's get to bed," he suggested.
"I'm not that tired," she yawned, "It's this music. Who chose Norah Jones, anyway?"
"If we don't stake claim to our room, we might have to wait until someone else has come and gone," he warned her.
"You mean," she crinkled her nose in realization as she pulled back to look at him. "Who would do that?"
"For one? Finn," he suggested immediately. "Colin and Jill are already MIA."
"I don't think we have to worry about Finn. He's been super-glued to Lane all evening, and she's not giving it up," Rory explained.
"Someone should tell him that—'cause she isn't looking so chaste at the moment."
Rory turned in his arms to see Finn's mouth fused rather scandalously to her best friend's face. "Ohmygod!"
"It's not that bad," Logan offered.
"It's like he's trying to eat her face," she spat.
"She doesn't seem to mind, look where her hands are," he pointed out. "Besides, you definitely don't complain when I do that to you."
She blushed, but kept her indigence. "First of all, you don't do that in public, and second of all, we don't look like that."
He raised a hopeful eyebrow. "Would you like to test that theory?"
"How?" she asked innocently, not comprehending just what flashed through his mind. He simply grinned at her. She should have begun to learn to associate mischief with that particular expression, but to date it simply made her feel unsteady on her own two feet.
"Come with me," he urged, pulling her towards the privacy of their room. She moved to the bed, checking it for rumpled fabric and other signs of prior use, but found none. Logan was busying himself with other tasks, namely furniture rearranging.
"What are you up to? Your assistance is needed over here," she informed him as she patted the bed next to her.
"Always good to hear you still require my services," he replied, not missing a beat as he stepped back to check on the position of the large mirror. Satisfied, he moved to stand in front of her. She looked up at him with what he was coming to know as her bedroom eyes. He felt his stomach drop out and he grabbed hold of her hands.
"So, the most obvious choice is videotape, but that tends to bite someone in the ass later, and knowing you, you'll probably become the first female President, and I'd hate to be the one to make you have to say 'penis' on CNN."
She laughed, until she noticed how he'd arranged the mirror.
"Logan, you don't …"
"Mirror's the next best thing. No need for video, this will be burned into your brain, I promise."
She swallowed hard and shook her head.
"No, we can't, that's too," she searched for the appropriate words.
"You aren't the slightest bit curious?" he asked, pulling her up to him. He moved them to stand in front of the mirror now. "I want you to see what I see."
Keeping his eyes open and locked on hers through the mirror, he moved to kiss her neck from behind. Her eyes half closed in pleasure, and when she reopened them, she looked not at him, but at them. A stain of blush crept up from her collarbone, as if showing her rising body temperature. Her own pupils had dilated to match his. It was the first time she'd seen evidence of lust in her own expression. She looked away at the realization.
"You're beautiful," he said definitively, wanting her to continue to enjoy this. He'd seen her interest peak, and he willed any guilt or shame to hold at bay.
The corners of her mouth turned up in a timid smile. "So are you."
She turned her head back to the side in order to meet his lips, drinking in the courage to overtake her trepidation. This was nothing to be ashamed of; it was just their reflection after all. It would only portray the events that would inevitably occur this evening, as it had so often in the past. It's just this time, they'd be able to experience it in a whole new realm.
XXXX
The next morning, she could feel her muscles aching before she ever dared to stretch a single one. She felt as if she'd run the New York City Marathon rather than having had sex. She wanted to roll over onto her side, to see what kind of shape he was in, but she couldn't bring herself to move an inch.
"Uhhn," she heard his low voice complain.
"You too?" she turned her head, wincing.
He smiled, and gave the beginnings of a laugh before he winced as well. "My abs are on fire," he looked at her.
"I'd say something witty, but it just hurts too much."
He rolled up onto his side, making a face that could only be related to sheer determination, and snaked an arm around her. She felt his hands adhere to her, and then she was rolled into him.
"What hurts worst on you?"
"My legs—the kneeling wasn't such a good idea," she looked down sheepishly.
"We'll just get you a personal trainer," he kissed her lightly.
"I don't love anyone enough to work out for them," she shook her head against his chest. She paused when she realized what she had alluded to—her forehead pressed into his sternum.
"You're right, I wouldn't want you to get all buff and muscle-bound. I like your legs," he said, running a hand up and down the closest one to him. She moved a hand to glide over his abdominal muscles, causing them to jump under her touch.
"And I like your abs," she said, glad he'd not said anything about her awkward comment.
"I hear rumblings," he yawned.
"Well, I could eat," she nodded.
He smiled, shaking his head. "I mean from out there. Some people tend to crash wherever they land."
"Oh—oh no."
"What's wrong?"
"People were out there, while we were … in here," she said in a hushed tone.
"Don't get all quiet on me now, Ace," he teased her.
"Logan, what if Lane, oh God," she rolled over, burying her face into her pillow.
"Hey, hey, come on," he coaxed her to look at him. "Everyone here was trashed. Even if they heard us, they won't remember now," he promised.
"Really?"
"Really. I just hope you remember last night," he added.
"Vividly."
"Good."
"We should probably get going soon, though."
"Back to the real world."
"Yeah. I'm going home today," she said quietly.
"I'm going with you."
She looked up at him, and he could already see her argument in her eyes. "No, you're not. I'd like you to keep all your appendages, and besides, this has nothing to do with you."
"Rory," he was fully prepared to argue his own case.
"No, I'll take Lane home; you can get a ride from whoever drove from Yale. I'll come see you later tonight. I need to talk to Lorelai, alone."
He sighed and nodded, giving into her wishes. There probably wasn't a lot he could say right now to fix her problem with her mother, but he still wanted to be able to be there with her. He wanted them to be able to present the most united front they could to their parents, to show them this was their lives. He also was more than intrigued to see her at home, in the tiny little town she'd talked of. She made it sound whimsical and otherworldly.
"But thanks."
He looked back into her eyes and smiled. "The offer is always good."
XXXX
"Remember the hangover I had in high school?"
Rory looked to her friend as she held her head in the palms of her hands after having regretfully turned the music not off, but as low as humanly possible. She gave her a sympathetic face even though Lane's eyes were screwed shut to keep out the light of day.
"You could say that."
"Nothing on this."
"Noted. What all did you have to drink?" Rory asked, knowing Lane wasn't usually much of a drinker.
"Just one beer! And I had a bunch of Jell-o; which is sort of an odd college party treat. Do they always have it, or do they rotate with Rice Krispy Treats?" she joked.
"Oh, Lane, those were made with vodka! How many did you have?"
"Dunno—'bout a dozen or so?"
"Oh, man. Tell me you've already ralphed?" Rory asked, hopeful not to have to make any emergency stops.
"Twice, this morning. I think the first time was in shock from waking up with my face pressed into Finn's arm. God, what a weird night."
Rory smiled, having been incredibly relieved to find them on the balcony, fully dressed and fully passed out. She'd gone to take a shower then, letting Lane sleep a bit longer. By the time she'd gotten ready, Lane had evidently emptied her stomach.
"You didn't hear any, uh, weird noises, did you?" Rory hedged.
"Other than Finn singing the medley of show tunes? No, can't say I remember any weird noises. Why?"
"Oh, no reason," Rory lied.
"What did you do?" Lane asked knowingly.
"Nothing!"
"You had sex with all those people there?" Lane squealed, too loud for her own good. She groaned and closed her eyes again, her head falling into her own lap.
"Serves you right. And it was different, he, well, we," she fumbled.
"I'm so not in a searching for the proper way to say it mood. Cut to the chase, please?" Lane pleaded, in desperate need to not be in a moving vehicle, or at least have her mind taken off of the fact that it took a good two hours to get home on a good day.
"We did it in front of a mirror."
Lane looked at her friend, "In front of a mirror? Like you watched yourself?" she whispered the last part, not because of her head but because she could feel her mother listening.
"Yeah," Rory smiled.
"Wow."
"It was amazing, to see us, I can't explain it. I shouldn't even try."
"That sounds sort of intense," Lane admitted.
"That's the perfect word for it, intense."
Lane smiled at Rory, seeing how in love she was. "I think it's great, you guys are really in love," she offered support.
"Oh, we're not, we're just," more flustered babble.
"Rory—come on. You watched yourself having sex with him, you're meeting his family, you're in a fight with Lorelai over it—you can't tell me you aren't in love with him. And the way he looks at you, he's head over heels for you."
"Really?" she didn't want to get her hopes up. They weren't ready to say that were they?
"Really. I'm positive. You haven't said that to each other yet?"
"No," she bit her lip. "I sort of skirted the issue this morning, accidentally, but he didn't hear me right, or something. He didn't say anything about it."
"You didn't tell him outright, though, right?"
"No, it was more of a general comment about not doing something for anyone, no matter how much I loved them. And he was the instigator of said comment, but I felt really funny after. Like I shouldn't have said it."
"You haven't had the best track record with the L-word," Lane acknowledged.
"There's an understatement."
"But he seems different. You're confident around him, not like Dean and Jess."
"So, I was a big fumbling idiot with them? 'Cause seriously, I'm not feeling too different right now."
"No, it's just that with Logan, you seem more like yourself. He doesn't hinder your personality in any way. It's like he enhances it."
"You're a really good friend—boosting my confidence while you feel like the underneath side of a floor mat."
"Can you do one thing for me?"
"Sure, what?"
"Make the sun go away," she moaned.
"Now you sound like Finn," she giggled.
"Oh God," she moaned again.
"Hey, I wasn't the one that kissed him."
"And here I was hoping that was just the hangover messing with my mind."
"Nope. You seemed to enjoy it."
"I have no recollection of the events of which you are speaking."
"I won't tell a soul," she promised, hooking her pinky through her best friends, as they used to do when they were in the first grade. They tugged against the other, and smiled.
"Hey, Lane?"
"Yeah?"
"Thanks for coming," she said gratefully.
"Anytime. Just remind me next time of the evils of Jell-o."
"Then I'd stay away from any brownies, too."
"Gotcha," she nodded, letting her head fall back against the now reclined seat. Rory let her rest, finishing the drive home to Stars Hollow in relative silence, focusing on her mom and the scenes that were permanently emblazoned on her memory from the reflective glass that had revealed her heart's desire.
AN: More drama on the way—they need the reprieve, I felt, the last couple of chapters. Thanks to everyone who's been so faithful in reviewing!
