Plans of Reunion
Summary: The S.H.B.A., S.H.T.B., S.H.N.W.O., S.H.C.C.S.H.C., aka Taylor, want the town sweethearts together again. When he mentions it at a town meeting, everyone starts plotting, and Miss Patty has a plan that just might work. Narco future fic.
Pairing: Rory/Dean with mentioned Luke/Lorelai.
Disclaimer: If I were Amy Sherman-Palladino I'd have better things to do than write fan fiction. And you'd be seeing this story unfold onscreen soon. Well, actually you wouldn't, because Rory and Dean would never have broken up in the first place, so the town wouldn't need to plot to get them back together.
Logan was sitting by the door when Rory stumbled back into the apartment that afternoon.
Miss Patty had worked with them for a couple hours after she came in around noon. She made sure they were properly fed, and they were working so hard, and so well together that she had been left with no choice but to let them leave, although she had seemed rather reluctant to do so.
"Where the hell have you been?" Logan bellowed.
"Dance rehearsal," Rory said, walking towards the large couch situated on the far side of their apartment. Logan reached out and grabbed her wrist, yanking her told him. She could feel his breath hot against her cheek. She could smell it, and it was free of alcohol, which scared her even more.
He's not going to hurt me, she told herself, breathing deeply in an attempt to calm her racing pulse. He may have potential to become abusive. But he won't. Because I know that he has the potential to, and I won't give him anything to be mad at me about. I just need to explain where I was this time. And there won't be a next time. I'll be safe. My career will be safe.
"Where were you really?" he growled into her ear.
"I told you. Miss Patty locked me into the studio with my partner because she thought it would improve our dancing."
"You mean to tell me that you spent the entire night locked in a building with another man!" he bellowed, his mouth in the same place it had been when he whispered growled threats into her ear. She recoiled from the booming noise.
"We didn't even look at each other," she begged. She could make this better. She would make this better. "Her plan was a total bust." Logan regarded her for what felt like hours before pushing her wrists away from his, standing up, and turning around.
"Sorry," he muttered as her left hand broke her fall. The pain was excruciating.
"Logan," she pleaded, "Logan, I'm hurt." He turned back to her, and helped her up, reaching his arm across her chest to cradle her sprained wrist. He helped her over to the couch, then went to the little kitchenette and got her an ice pack. How could I have thought he would hurt me on purpose? Rory asked herself. What she had just experienced was clearly not the start of an abusive relationship. He'd been worried about her. The article hadn't said anything about it starting out with a worried boyfriend. She didn't think. Good thing Dean didn't hear what I said.
Miles away, Dean Forester paced his dorm room. He couldn't get those words out of his head. But he couldn't figure out what to do about them, either.