Puppet Master
The next day, Logan sidled up to Rory in the newspaper office. She tensed up, worried that he probably wanted an answer from her; an answer she still didn't have. She had stayed up half the night worrying, and had, unfortunately, come to no further conclusion.
"Hey, Ace. Can I talk to you?"
She shifted uneasily in her seat. "Well, I'm actually…kind of busy right now," she lied unconvincingly, paging through various papers lying on her desk.
"Rory, relax. It's not about that." Internally, Logan grimaced at having to use such a general term, but the problem was, he couldn't quite define what 'that' was. But he was relieved to see that, at his words, Rory did, in fact, relax visibly.
"Well, if it's not about that," Rory stressed the word ironically, "I suppose that you might be able to talk to me." She paused and seemed to become internally reflective before perking up suddenly. "So, what's up?"
"Well, it seems that the fact that I called for a truce in our little prank war has been twisted by certain people into a rumor that I am no longer the prank master."
"Well, I thought we came to the conclusion that your not. I am," said Rory teasingly.
"Hardy-har-har." Even though Logan seemed only to grudgingly laugh, he was actually very happy at seeing that Rory was in a better mood today. "Well, as I as saying, there is a certain person, who has deemed himself my successor, so to speak. The first move has been made against me," at this he flipped a Polaroid onto her desk, "and I was thinking we could have a bit of fun with this person."
Rory took a sip of her coffee before picking up the picture. This nearly turned disastrous. She almost choked on her coffee – the sight of Logan's face which had been drawn on with what looked like Sharpie was too much. After getting her coffee down without incident, she picked up the picture again. Logan was framed by bright pink, indicating to Rory that he had been sleeping in his room when the picture was taken. He had been given a Sharpie goatee, small smiley faces on each of his cheeks and a Harry Potter-esque scar on his forehead.
She chuckled slightly before addressing him. "Interesting. Well, I have to give points for catching you when you were asleep." She paused. "Was it Sharpie?"
Logan nodded. "You have no idea how hard that stuff is to get off." And, low and behold, when Rory looked closely, she could still see a faint shadow of the Harry Potter scar.
"I see. But I must deduct points for style. I would have stuck with one theme and continued it. For instance draw only the scar. Then add clumsily taped up glasses, a wizard's hat, and a wand. That would have been much classier."
Logan smirked. "I completely agree with you. However, I must ask…are you a closet Harry Potter fanatic?"
"Nope."
"Really?" Logan sounded skeptical.
"Of course not. I am very open about my Harry Potter fanaticism. I am most certainly not ashamed of it, and do not hide it in the closet."
Logan sat down on her desk. "Do you fancy yourself a sort of Hermione?"
"Only if you'll be my Ron," said Rory, before blushing. She was convinced that Ron and Hermione would eventually get together.
"Oh, come on…do I have to be Ron? Red haired, freckle faced and with a billion older siblings?" Logan whined.
"Now who's the closet Harry Potter fanatic?"
"Shh, don't tell anybody. I have a reputation to maintain."
"Thus this friendly visit," Rory reminded, shaking the Polaroid in his face.
"Right. So, got any evil ideas?"
Rory smirked. "How do you think Finn would look with purple hair?"
Logan laughed and then composed himself. "I never said it was Finn." He paused. "You weren't in on this, were you?"
"No, but come on, who else would do something like this?"
"Too true." He turned contemplative for a moment. "I don't know, I think Finn would look better with multicolored hair. Maybe purple and bright pink."
"Now you're thinking my friend."
"So what do you say? Have you got some time for some evil scheming?"
"But of course. If I didn't practice my evil scheming now, where would I be when it comes time to take over the world?"
He offered her his hand. She took it and he pulled her up. They walked out of the newspaper hand in hand.
Hours later, preparations having been made, they each went their separate ways. Rory ran to her economics class, ten minutes late, but she found that she didn't care. Spending time with Logan was fun.
Logan understood her in a way no one, with perhaps the exception of her mother, did. He knew how to playfully banter with her. She didn't know how he did it, but he knew which buttons to push to make her let loose and enjoy life. He knew how to make her laugh. But he also knew when to back off and let her have some space, and she appreciated that.
Yes, she could see herself in a committed relationship with him. She could see it getting serious. She sighed as she fingered the ring that still hung around her neck. It frightened her how closely he had managed to worm his way into her life, and her heart, in such a short amount of time.
Later that evening, Rory made her way to Logan's suite. This time, they got out Life instead of Monopoly and after three games, Finn and Colin finally walked in.
"So, Logan…how's the face?" Finn asked nonchalantly.
"Fine, thanks awfully, Finn."
"And my dear Rory. What are you doing here?"
"What does it look like? I'm beating Logan in Life."
This sparked an ungentlemanly snort from Colin. Logan looked up at him and glared. "You try playing Life against Ace. She's very good."
"Not as good as me, of course." Finn preened a bit.
"I don't know, mate. She claims to be undefeated."
"Well, so am I."
Colin piped in. "It sounds like we have a challenge in the making."
"That we do, Colin. That we do."
Three hours, and seven games of Life later, Rory came out the clear winner. "Ha! I told you I'm good."
"Very well, Gilmore. I concede for now." Finn looked so thoroughly defeated that even his shirt collar drooped.
"Now, how about we have a nightcap to celebrate?" Rory volunteered.
"I don't have much to celebrate, but a drink sounds good," said Finn sadly.
"I'll go get the drinks," offered Logan. He returned seconds later with four open beer cans.
"What should we drink to?" Rory asked.
"To the road of Life," volunteered Colin who already managed to seem drunk.
"To the road of life," echoed the rest solemnly before chugging their beers.
It didn't take even fifteen minutes for the 'little something extra' to work it's magic on Finn. He was out like a light, and it took both Colin and Logan to get him into his room.
"Go to bed, Colin," said Logan. Colin clumsily complied.
"Ace!" called Logan from beside Finn's bed. "Ace!"
"You called, oh Master and Commander?" Rory appeared in the doorway holding their sack full of supplies.
Logan smirked. "Indeed I did. Are you ready to get to work?"
Rory smirked back. "Indeed I am."
Logan walked Rory back to her suite. As they neared her door, she looked down at the Polaroid in her hand. "I'm going to blow this up and frame it."
"I don't think Finn would appreciate that too much."
"But I would, and that's what matters, right?"
"Right. By the way, could you get a copy of it for me?"
"I would be too happy to."
They came to her door.
"Logan," she began, steeling herself against the inevitable, "I know you have a question for me. Why don't you go ahead and ask it?"
"Shh, Ace. I don't have a question."
"But -"
"It's okay. I'm willing to wait." With that, he leaned down and placed another chaste kiss on her cheek. She closed her eyes and breathed deeply. When she opened them, he was gone. She went to open her door, but was surprised to discover that her hand was holding a CD.
'Keith Urban. Be here' it read. She flipped it over curiously. Logan had put a star next to one of the track numbers. Intrigued, she went inside, and stuck the CD in her player and skipped to the desired track. Pretty soon, a smooth voice came to her ear.
Rory listened to the entire song without moving so much as a muscle. The music flowed through her entire body, leaving her overcome with emotion. A single tear made its way down her cheek, touching the same place the Logan had kissed not five minutes earlier.
AN: I tried to make this chapter more upbeat, but I also tried to keep the angst-y undercurrent. The song is Making Memories of Us, by Keith Urban. It's really a beautiful song, and I just couldn't help myself – I had to write it in.
I'm very grateful for all of the reviews I got, reassuring me that the angst in the last chapter wasn't bad. You reviewers out there are the reason I continue to write. Love ya. - Rebecca
AN (5/1/05): I have reposted this chapter without the song lyrics to comply with a rule I was not aware of before...oops, bad Rebecca!