A/N: Holy cow, I updated :D Seriously, I start these things, they have so much potential (right?… riiight?) and then I disappear under a swamp of 'real life'. Well, enough excuses, at least it's moving along! So, here's the next (albeit extremely belated) part of…

"How to Lose a Socialite in 10 Days"

V – McDonald's Wars Episode V: Spartacus Strikes Back!

"And that's why we need a woman President…"

"You realise that I'm going to agree, mostly because I'm a woman and secondly- wait… WAIT- I'm going to disagree, because it's you that's making the argument, Logan Huntzberger".

"Although you have a more than valid point, deep down you just hate it when I'm right".

She paused. That wasn't the case at all. To be totally and utterly truthful, she-

"I hate you because you represent… ev- everything that's wrong with our- world," she spluttered, quickly attempting to stifle her true feelings. Feelings she had resolved herself to fight against.

"Ouch," he replied coyly, "where did that come from?"

"Just- can we get just get on with this and get it over with and then- and then we can all go back to our corners and the world will be right again?"

Logan smiled wryly and leant back in his chair, "not enjoying yourself Ace?"

She cringed slightly. His charm was dominating. He had coined a nickname she didn't even like, but that somehow made her feel special.

"I mean, we can just go home and-"

"No," she interjected, remembering the article, "no… let's… no… we can have a nice, platonic meal together-"

"Rory, we're in McDonalds".

The startling commercial reality flurried about her. Children, parents, Happy Meals, "again, I remind you that you brought us here-"

"I said I'd 'pulled some strings', I didn't say how big they were…" he trailed, smiling and munching contently on a cheeseburger, "Finn's sister-in-law's cousin works here. Like I said in the car, on the way over, 'ever had the urge to eat unlimited hamburgers at a quality price?'"

Rory glared, "you're a sad product of commercialism, incarnate…"

"Excuse me," he chimed, "a Happy product, thank you very much… I didn't order this Cheeseburger Happy Meal for the toy, you know?"

For the first time in the whole night, she giggled. Perhaps it was the ridiculousness of the situation – two University students, wealthy and thoroughly well-dressed, sitting there, amidst a crowd of hyper-active children, exhausted adults and plastic cut-outs of the McDonald's mascots – or maybe it was a slip-up. She'd finally let her guard down.

"Holy Hamburger, Batman, it's alive!"

Rory playfully tossed a chip at him, which he cleverly dodged. The chip floated, almost suspended in slow motion, for a moment, through the air before it collected a child running by, smack in the jaw. He paused, bent over and examined the fry.

Logan turned around and smiled at the boy, "sorry about that s-"

"FOOD FIGHT!" the young lad screamed.

Within seconds, every able-bodied child took up arms; fists of hamburger, magazines of French fries, discarded pickles… anything that was immediately within reach of the small-palmed youngsters.

"NOOO!" an acne-faced teenager screamed, "I just became manager of this place! You kids drop your weapo-"

But his words were drowned out in the jungle hooting and war-cries from the children whom erupted from their seats and parent's grasps, each tossing and running around the restaurant.

"Freedom!" one, seemingly Scottish, child called, before raising a plastic spork in triumph.

A wave of toddlers advanced on pre-teens at strategically located points around the restaurant – the booths were the first to fall. Patrons were pelted with a barrage of chicken nuggets sauces of several varieties. One couple were bashed with soft-serve sundaes and raised their arms in terror.

"Take nay prisoners!" the Scottish child yelled and the couple were drenched in a sticky concoction of Fanta and Coke.

"These kids have amazing aim!" Logan yelled above the ruckus.

"YES!" Rory squealed, dodging a Coke drenched wad of napkins.

"I mean, this has been well orchestrated-" but Logan's sentence was cut short as a solitary, slimy, ketchup-covered chip brushed his cheek.

Rory sat, open-mouthed as his dabbed at his cheek.

"I've- I've been hit," he muttered softly before grabbing the remainder of his burger and raising it threateningly, "you kids are gonna get it now!"

Rory grabbed his arm and pulled him beneath the table, just as a mass wave of chips and sauce containers flew in every direction over their table.

"Why did you do that?" Logan shouted, laughing with the burger in his hand, "I had one lined up good".

"I was saving yourself from an almost certain night with 'the boys' downtown," she explained.

"Good God," Logan exclaimed, looking around the restaurant from under the table, "I haven't seen carnage like this since the first twenty minutes of Saving Private Ryan!"

"I thought you weren't a religious man," Rory called back, clutching a dinner table leg.

"I am now!" he replied, smiling.

The pair sat under the table, smiling at one another and half-avoiding the payload of fast food that was being exchanged around the room.

"Are you thinking what I'm thinking?" Logan whispered quietly.

Rory bit her lip and blushed.

"That's what I thought," he continued to whisper soothingly, and leant closer to her.

She brushed a rogue strand of hair from her face and blushed a shade of crimson that would have made Harvard proud.

Logan smiled his trademark smile.

She leant in closer… closer… until she could feel his breathing on her cheek. At which point he opened his mouth, just slightly-

She closed her eyes.

Without skipping a beat he raised the remainder of the burger between them and bit down on one end.

She opened her eyes to a face full of cheeseburger, close enough that she recoiled in shock and drew breath suddenly.

"What?" he asked with a mouthful of the burger, "I've got your bit here".

Her eyebrows lowered and she blushed ever more, if it were possible, "I'm fine thanks".

"Oh come on!" he mumbled, "I'm not going out with Paris Hilton or some other stick-of-a-girl, take a bite!"

Rory considered his order and thought it best to take the compliment that was in there… somewhere, "thank you," she sighed, feeling a piece of McDonald's shrapnel strike her in the back.

Logan surveyed the battle and spied the Scottish child being apprehended by McDonald's staff. The boy kicked and screamed, demanding his army fight on without him – and they did, but only until their ammunition was depleted.

The battle was over. Children scampered for cover and hiding places, but it was too late, parents, covered all sorts of messes hurried to arrest their children.

"WHO STARTED THIS?" the Manager screamed, covered, head-to-toe in filth, "I want a name – someone, to come forward and PAY FOR ALL OF THIS!"

Rory looked down at the ground.

"COME ON, FESS UP!" the Manager continued to rage.

Rory felt guilty to the pit of her stomach. She remained studying the ground as her hand was grasped by a warm and reassuring grip. She looked up and noticed that the hand belonged to Logan, whom was not looking at her, but the Manager – she could feel something in the gesture… something-

"YOU!" the Manager screamed again, pointing, "the boy with the accent!"

"Ye'll get nowt outta me," the Scottish boy stated steadfastly as he stood, gripped by McDonald's staff on each side.

"Who are you boy?" the Manager asked calmly, eyeing the rubbish covered child.

"I," the boy paused, "am SPARTACUS!".

"NO!" a young girl rose to feet, her hair, a combination of mustard and ketchup, "I am Spartacus!"

"I am Spartacus!" another boy called from the back, held firmly by his parents.

"I am Spartacus! I am Spartacus! I am Spartacus!" the claim floated around the room from child to child.

The Manager and his staff stood stunned – stunned and completely confused.

Logan and Rory could no longer contain their amusement at the scene, both jumped up from under the table and claimed proudly in unison, "I am Spartacus!" before falling onto their chairs in a fit of laughter.

Even the parents of some of the most guilty children chimed in with the 'Spartacus' claim.

"Oh you're all SICK!" the Manager bellowed, "just- just get the hell out of my store and FAST!"

No on needed to be told they'd been let off the hook twice, and quickly, the restaurant emptied, save for the staff.

Rory and Logan made their way, somewhat dirtied by the events, to Logan's car, still laughing cheering for 'Spartacus'. It was only when they arrived at the vehicle that the pair realized they were still in each other's grasp.

"I- well…" Rory quickly dropped Logan's hand, "I had a splend- an o.k. time with you, Logan Huntzberger…Spartacus".

"I'm glad you did Ace," he paused, leaning on the bonnet his shimmering Mercedes, "I can't remember the last time I went from discussing global politics to throwing burgers at small children in under five minutes…"

"Oh!" she giggled, leaning on the car, next to him, "so it's usually… ten or fifteen?"

"Yeah… we definitely set a record tonight," he smirked.

They paused for a moment, gazing, in an attempt to be nonchalant, at the crowds of dirty families, piling into people movers and cars in the car-park.

"I guess that's that, then, huh?" Logan asked, breaking the silence.

"What do you mean?"

"I guess we just go back to our corners now, right? That's what you want, isn't it?" he pushed, looking at her from the corner of his eye.

"I- I- what do you want me to say?"

"I want you to say what you want to," he stated truthfully, "I'm not one for the whole- you know, lieing thing?"

"Oh," she replied sheepishly, "yeah that- that's not the- yeah, me either!"

He cocked his head slightly and smiled at her, "something you're not telling me, Ace?"

She refused his gaze and brushed her dress off, "of course not, if I keep things from you, it's because they are things you shouldn't know – not lies…"

"I don't really see the difference…" he trailed.

She couldn't tell him. Why did she feel she needed to? He wasn't anything to her. Just a fool that needed to be cut off his perch anyway. She didn't need to justify anything to him.

"Rory?" he whispered quietly.

She turned her head to face him and sighed somewhat, but before she could even get a single thought in order, he had brushed a hand across her cheek and pressed his lips against hers. She was startled for a moment, completely caught off guard but she didn't fight him, not one bit…

A/N: So yeah, that's the end of Chapter V. I SWEAR I'll have Chapter VI up, like, within the next day or so. I really like this story… it's clichéd I know, but I'm having fun writing it. That's what counts right? No? O.K. Just let me know what you think of this one!