Author's Note: TeeHee, bad me, forgot to post this before I left for vacation. It got really hectic before wee left, driving cross country with my family…could drive even My dearest Nicole to death, and she puts up with me. Anyway, I hope you like this chapter, enjoy, and thanks so much to all of you for your feedback. Look at it this way, you had to wait for this chap, but you get one sooner than ppl on illusive do.

Chapter 3

She flopped down on her bed as she exhaled loudly. She was exhausted, Friday afternoon, first week at a new school and she was ready to crawl under the covers to sleep and never wake up. It had been a rough week; the transition of finding everything and knowing where to go was plenty to keep her occupied. If you added to the mix Paris ranting, and the time she spent with Marty you would realize that after just a week she was already as busy as she had been when she had attended Harvard for the last year and a half.

She felt her eyes drooping closed as the snuggling into the soft warm down comforter she had on her bed began. She loved the feeling of the soft material, the cool soft cotton of the cover she had over it, the fluffy pillows that surrounded her, the thought that she might actually get some rest tonight. Rory heard the door slam shut and for some reason reached for her phone. True to her mothers words Rory had been the recipient of a few late night calls. She was never very pleased with them over the week, but her mother received a kick out of them, and Rory was sure she would eventually fulfill the meaning of the word, both figuratively and actually.

Realizing that there was no one on the phone she slowly climbed out of bed and made her way for her door. She opened her door only to see the door of the common room sweep shut taking the flowing blonde hair with it. A frown soon graced Rory's face as she realized she had just missed her roommate again. A week of sharing a dorm and not once had the two crossed paths. She was starting to believe the girl didn't exist, but she had seen the blonde hair so she was wrong.

She was looking forward to meeting her new roommate; the last one had been, well interesting, for lack of a better word. It wasn't that she hadn't loved sharing a room with Candi. She was a great girl, and over the last year or so the two had become great friends, Rory was just a little sick of Candi trying to set her up. She was done with Dean, that didn't mean she needed another boyfriend so soon.

She got settled back in her room, her blankets and pillows surrounding her completely. Her mind began to unscramble the piles of homework she had to do as her body relaxed, and muscles began to loosen. She was once again back to her 'almost sleeping stage' when the sounds of the dorm phone rang through the air. The groan coming from her was loud and muffled as her head was buried in her pillow.

"What," she responded, grabbed the phone from her nightstand roughly.

"That's some way to answer the phone Danes," The agitated voice on the other end responded.

"Paris I'm trying to sleep. Unless it's important you can call me back later." She made a move to hang the phone up as she heard the loud obnoxious voice sound through the air.

"If you really want to sleep do so. I can't guarantee Doyle will want to chat later."

"Where should I meet you," Her groan was clearly heard through the other end of the phone as Rory sat on her bed.

"My dorm, twenty minutes. Don't be late."

With a loud click the phone was hung up. Setting her socked feet on the ground she once again trudged to her closet for her coat. She had just enough time to stop for a coffee before she had to meet Paris. She needed the coffee if she was to endure both Paris, and her annoying editor of a boyfriend while she listened to the requirements of her joining the paper. One last look at her warm cozy bed and she was out the door, the cold winter air hitting her face as her coat was pulled around her tighter.

Somewhere between sipping her coffee in Doyle's office, to listening to him tell her that two or three great articles would get her on the paper, as Harvard had so highly recommended, a screaming match had started. She was sure that the entire newsroom was listening in intently as Doyle and Paris argued over the standards that would get Rory a spot on the paper. She wasn't sure who was arguing which point anymore, she was just sitting back trying to decide on her first article.

"Paris, It's two or three. Stop it, you're confusing me," Doyle spoke bringing a hand to his head.

"Fine. Danes and I are leaving. You'll get your two articles and she'll be on. It's too easy if you ask me," Paris huffed out of the office leaving a wide-eyed Doyle.

"I'll get you the first article soon. Thanks," Her soft words floated through the air as she walked from the room to follow Paris. She just wanted to sleep, but she was certain Paris would talk for hours and she would be stuck listening. With a frown she caught up to get the last of the mumblings.

"…Ass of a guy."

"Settle down Paris. I can write three articles no problem."

"That's not the point. I had an entire year of groveling, of doing grunt work and you get three articles. It's bull shit," Her voice carried through the courtyard as her anger bubbled to the surface.

"Paris, I went through it at Harvard," She regretted the words the second they flew from her mouth, Harvard and Paris were never good subjects to mix.

"This isn't Harvard, It's Yale." Arms folded across her chest and anger brewing in her eyes made Paris a person not many would mess with.

"I get that, but you've seen my work. It's not like I've never done this before," Rory's reasoning was softening Paris as the dirty blonde ran a hand through her hair.

"I'm sorry. It's not you."

"Then what," Her voice was soft with question.

"Doyle," Paris spoke as she walked towards her dorm.

"Still not committing?"

"No, and it's starting to piss me off."

"Talk to him, ask him what's going on."

"Yeah, Tomorrow, when we go to dinner. So, what's going on with you and Marty? You two are everywhere together, coffee, talking before classes, walking you to classes. What's the scoop?"

"Nothing really. We're just friends. I like hanging out with him."

"If you say so."

"I do say so. I like my coffee, and he was walking to his classes as well."

"I said I believed you didn't I."

"NO, you said 'If you say so'. That's not believing me."

"If you say so."

"Ha, there you go again."

"What ever, lets just get to my place and study."

The cool wind hit her face numbing her exhausted body to the core. Here eyes watered a bit as she let her body slump some under the heavy weight of her bag. She was fully exhausted, though she loved Paris dearly, she was sure that studying had mentally exhausted her the rest of the way. She just wanted to get her schedule down, a set pattern, a plan. She was a plans kind of girl, though these last few months no one would have been able to tell that she was the girl with the plan, the pro/con list girl. The one who knew the path she was walking, and where it would end.

She was so unsure of that path these days. She had always planned to be a Harvard girl, much to the dislike of her mother's father. She wanted Harvard, she wanted to be a journalist, and she knew that. So why was she questioning everything. Why had she picked up and moved? Why did she feel she needed to? She couldn't even figure out why she had hated Dean so much in the end, but she had. She was just so confused, so lost, and her Grandfather didn't help any.

She knew what the deal was, they had made it years ago, and for that she had her oldest brother. He was hers and she wouldn't have it any other way. They had grown up in the town together. They grew up relatively normal under the watchful eyes of those in Stars Hollow. She was happy for that, happy that she had him even for a little while.

Rory longed for those happy days. When her life was easy. When she didn't have to worry about anything, she could just play, have fun, and be a kid. She longed for her childhood in Stars Hollow. She missed the festivals, and people, the carefree attitudes, the arguments at the diner, the gazebo. She missed her home, her dad, her brothers, and most importantly her mom. She missed her mom more than she ever thought possible. She missed their movie nights, walks in the snow, taking turns going behind the counter to get their coffee. She missed spending time with her best friend, and the woman who raised her into the strong woman she was.

Looking up at the sky she realized that the white flakes she loved to share with her mother were falling again. She smiled thinking of her walks as she reached down to pull her phone from her bag, she wanted to call her mother, talk about the snow, life, anything. She just missed her mother and just wanted to hear her voice.

She went for her phone, second pocket on the left side, it wasn't there, in fact, thinking about it now, feeling the weight on her shoulder, it was lighter. Her eyes drifted to the side where her pink hello kitty messenger bag rested. It was ripped, the sides had torn and she was currently standing in a pile of her books, and notes. She cursed the gods who made her week even worse.

Crouching down she began to pick things up. Notes, books, pens, papers, her phone, it was all in a puddle on the ground. She cursed the day she bought the bag, and at the moment she was less fond of her mother. She was currently cursing the woman and her need to get her daughter everything pink, frilly, or hello kitty related. Her legs were beginning to go numb from the crouched position, she went to stand, and she needed to shake her legs out before she finished picking up. Her hand hit the ground to push her up as her legs fully gave out and her ass hit the ground.

She groaned throwing her arms in the air as she let the rest of her body hit the ground. She didn't care; she would lie in the snow until she died. The world had cursed her, classes, Paris, The paper, studying and homework, lack of sleep, not to mention she was soaking, and cold, or her back was. Her front was slowly on its way as she lay on the pavement, the cool white flakes gently falling, and melting on her. She had had the week from hell, and was betting that this was the next step in it, to freeze in the snow.

He had just left Finn, Colin, and Steph at The Pub to walk his date for the evening home, some cute blonde, he probably could have gotten an invite to her bed had there not been some roommate crisis. He was sure it was true, because come on, who in their right mind could turn down Logan Huntzburger. He had yet to find a woman, a girl, hell anyone who could resist his charms. He felt extremely smug as he walked down the path remembering he had her halfway undressed before they were interrupted.

He walked through the freezing courtyard; he was perfectly toasty however as the alcohol he had consumed that evening was keeping him pretty warm, and numb, so he couldn't feel a thing. He felt the soft white snow hit him as it was beginning to gently shake him from his tipsy state as he looked up towards the sky, dark with snow clouds, heavy, ready to break out into a full out snowstorm. He was glad to be on his way back to his dorm, god knew the last thing he needed was to get caught in the storm.

As if he had cursed himself with the thought of being stuck in the cold he was sent flying to the ground with a simple trip of the foot. There was a loud thud sound throughout the area as he fell. He swore he hadn't had that much to drink as he sat up on the ground. He was never clumsy enough to trip, much less over his own feet, and he was pretty sure he hadn't had that much to drink.

"Do you mind," An agitated irritated voice spoke from the ground next to him.

"Well hello Jonathan, didn't realize this was an ice rink," Logan said with a bit of a laugh.

"I'm sorry, was that some kind of joke or something," She sat upright looking at the man next to him.

"So what were you doing? Contemplating a love lost?" He smirked ignoring her comment.

"If that's what I was doing you would have dropped a glove on my head instead of falling on me," The irritation was clear in her voice as she began picking her belongings up once again.

"Haven't you dropped enough all ready? Trying to steal my gloves now?"

"You tripped over me here," she replied indignantly. "Not the other way around as I seem to remember mister."

"Oh don't call me mister. You make me sound as old as my dad." The smirk had faded from his face as he gazed at her. "And if you weren't laying in the middle of the walk with your books everywhere, in the middle of the night, maybe I wouldn't have tripped."

"You should watch where you're going," She again stated as she shoveled the last of her papers into her ripped bag and stood.

"Am I listening to a broken record now? Cause I swear you've said that already." His smirk was one of curiosity, his eyes danced with pleasure, as he placed his hand on the frosty ground to assist him in standing.

"Well if I've said it already it's because you didn't listen." She wrapped her arms around her broken bag as she held it close to her chest and began to walk off towards her dorm room.

"So that's how it's going to be. You severely injure me and then just walk away?"

"Your ego maybe, and you fell on me." She snidely remarked. She began walking the chilly path to her dorm. She heard the slush slosh beneath her feet, and a resounding eco to the side of her. She would have looked, but she didn't want to give this guy any more reason to follow her.

The wind chilled her cheeks turning them a cherry red as the tip of her nose took a similar color. The gently falling snow clung to her damp coat, and hair. She would have hugged her coat closer if she were not afraid that she would again drop her books. She sped up as she approached a dark corridor and her heart began to race, there was still the eco of a slosh around her.

"Running away from something," That same voice from the courtyard sounded in her ear. He saw her freeze under the street lamp and slowly turn, her hair and wet coat glistening in the light. Her face was flush from the cold, and there was an indescribable look in her eyes.

"Stop following me."

"How do you know this isn't my dorm," He spoke pointing to the building behind her.

"Because this is my dorm, and never once have I seen you go in or out of this building."

"Yale is a big school. It's not like you know everyone going to this school."

"Look whoever you are I really could care less where it is your room is. Just stop making my week worse," She was seething with irritation as she turned to once again march into the building behind her. She really just wanted to sleep and forget about this guy, whoever he was.

"I think my week tops yours. I mean tripping over some girl who decides that the middle of the street is the perfect place to decide if she'll ever see her true love again is something else." He watched as she glared, it was anger he had seen minutes ago in her eyes, or maybe frustration. Whatever it was he was enjoying it. "So how bout I go write my name and number in a book and we can meet again once you find it. Perhaps next time I'll actually drop that glove on your head. As long as you haven't already dropped the contents of your bag everywhere."

"What in the…" She was going to rip this guy a new one. What the hell did he think he was doing, she didn't need some ass of a guy in her face when all she wanted to do was sleep. "Look whoever you are…"

"Logan," He extended his hand as he got a hesitant look from Rory.

"What?"

"My name, Logan. And you are."

"Annoyed."

"Well it's nice to meet you annoyed."

"You have got to be kidding me," she threw her arms in the air as her ripped bag fell to the ground. "You really have no sense of propriety. You follow a girl, in the middle of the night back to her dorm. A girl you don't even know is followed by a guy who very well could be some serial axe murderer."

"I'm not."

"Well that's not the point. You followed me."

"After I tripped over you."

"To my dorm," Rory spoke as the two looked up at the door to see that her belongings were now lying in front.

"This is your room," Logan shockingly asked.

"Great, now the chick flick loving axe murderer is going to stalk me." She unlocked her door and began kicking her books and such into her room, to lazy to pick them up again.

"Chick flick loving axe murderer?"

"Serendipity." The one word was all she said as she began to close the door.

"You're actually not going to invite me in. Your going to make me, injured and all walk all the way to my dorm in a snowstorm? I mean I was almost back to my dorm when you ever so gracefully tripped me, and I walked you home to keep axe murderers away. I mean it's Yale, but it's not that safe."

"Exactly why you're not coming in," She again tried to slam the door in his face to be meet with his foot in the way. "Move your foot."

"It's a snow storm, I could freeze on the way back to my dorm. How would you feel then?"

"Hmmm, frozen chick flick loving axe murderer, or dead Rory. I'll take frozen axe murderer."

"Well Rory, I'll be sure to send you an invitation to my funeral."

"You know my address." The door slammed in his face before he had a chance to respond. Her heard the lock click into place, and a second later the gentle closing of what he guessed to be her door.

He stood outside her door a bit longer before digging for his keys. He knew those keys he and the boys had made would come in handy. He was way too intoxicated to make it back to his dorm, even after the previous sparing match. Sliding the key into the lock he silently opened the door as her walked in and stumbled to the couch. He would just sleep on the couch tonight. It wasn't like Stephanie had forbid him to stay the night or anything. Of course it wasn't like she knew Finn had made them all copies of her dorm keys. Finn would get an ass whooping for that one later, but all he was told was that he couldn't 'sleep' with her roommate, so he wouldn't sleep with her, he would sleep on the couch.