The Day of Reckoning
Logan stood on the other side of the doors to the balcony with his back leaning against them and closed his eyes. The price of a kiss indeed...it seemed Finn was practicing his skills as a seer again and he had been right on the money with that comment. He had never thought much about the risks he took, but now he suddenly understood that those chances, financial risks, physical risks, they were nothing compared to the risking one's own heart. Physical scars were a lot easier to heal from than a killing blow to the heart, Rory was the first girl he had met since Rebecca that he had even considered baring his heart too and now on impulse fueled by a bit of jealousy and insecurity and a healthy dose of desire he had take the leap. Scariest part was he couldn't take it back even if he wanted to. He dropped his head back against the door and drew in a deep cleansing breath before his thoughts were interrupted by Stephanie bouncing over to his side, seemingly unaware of his current angst. Since usually Stephanie was the biggest rumor monger amongst them he had to assume that the committee had voted that the interrogation would be held later, either that or Seth had the balcony miked.
"Your presence is requested on the field of battle. " she said with a hand on his arm.
He nodded, back to business as usual, at least for the moment. "Round up the usual suspects and I will meet you there."
"As you wish...." the words echoed in Rory's mind long after the doors had closed and she was alone. She stood staring down at the meadow below the balcony for a long time. Her brain may have catalogued the movements and sounds carrying on below as the tent was erected and the members of the LDB congregated but her eyes saw nothing but the instant replay of the last minutes with Logan, his outrageous declaration and that kiss.... she shivered and hugged herself tighter not really registering the fact that she was still wearing Logan's jacket.
It was only when a series of deep drum beats rang from below that her attention was drawn to what was happening on the field before her. With a little shake of the head she struggled to clear her mind and focus on the last remaining details of the night. She heard the balcony doors open and she turned to see Finn outlined in silhouette, backlit by the lights from the ballroom. His eyes held a sentient look as he took in the sight of her wrapped in Logan's jacket and his smile held a wisdom belied by his normal carefree attitude. She looked at him with new eyes "You knew what you were doing when you started out on this adventure didn't you?"
He fluttered his eyelashes at her in a parody of innocence, "My dear whatever makes you say that?"
"Logan may seem like the wizard but you are no doubt the man behind the curtain. I just have one question, why?"
He shrugged as if to say that all manner of things somehow happened without his complicit knowledge of their inner workings "A little nonsense now and then is relished by the wisest men."
She sighed, she could see that she was not going to extract a straight answer from Finn in the foreseeable future. "This is just a big game to you isn't it?"
"If so it's a strange game. The only winning move is not to play. How about a nice game of chess?"
She took Finn's arm with a look of defeat. "I surrender, how is it that you have so much time to sit around and soak up useless trivia and know more random movie quotes than my mom, who considers herself a world champion?"
Finn gave her a good-natured smile "I'm a philosophy major."
"Ah" her voice held a note of insight "that explains a great many things about you my friend."
He winked at her "I'll take that as a compliment."
When they reached the field below a mist had settled around the tented pavilion and only the burning lanterns seemed to cast an otherworldly light on the stage set before them. Finn pulled two black silk carnival masks out of the pocket of his jacket and handed one to her. When she looked at him curiously he leaned over just as the trumpeters started to play "To hide your identity from the outsiders."
She slipped the stiff mask over her face and stepped to the edge of the circle of LDB members that had formed around the floor of the pavilion that she could now see was a gigantic replica of a chessboard. The doors to the house opened and a procession of players was led out with great fanfare to the tent. Before they reached the entrance they split into two groups and Rory could see as they drew nearer that all the chess players had been dressed to play the parts, there were knights and bishops, pawns, and even a queen and king. At the back of each of the processions was a member of the LDB, one was Logan and the other was an unknown boy that Rory vaguely recognized but had not met personally.
It was all sort of Alice in Wonderland meets Harry Potter on a grand scale. After everything that had occurred in the past 48 hours Rory found this nothing out of the ordinary although she did note that Logan was a surprisingly good chess player, she wondered idly if there was anything he couldn't do well if he put his mind to it. His head for strategy certainly was something to be wary of in the future. She enjoyed the game but had never had that gift of being able to look ten moves into the distant future to predict exactly where your opponent would go. Her mind skipped like a stone on a mirror still pond over the moments that she had shared with Logan over the past weeks. In each one they had played their parts, she moved and he countered but she couldn't help but wonder if he had seen the steps before she made them, if he had predicted her anger, her fear, her realizations better than she had. She had no way of knowing that he, the ultimate master of strategy, the king of calculated victory had found himself in check within a handful of moves and forfeited the original game in record time. This was a whole new board and checkmate this time would be hard won.
It seemed a tallying of points had taken place behind closed doors with some contention about the points awarded for certain tasks and since both teams were quite successful in their pursuits of glory it all came down to a, not so simple game of chess. The game was as fantastical as any medieval play with swords clashing and war cries ringing in the tent. After a few uncertain moves the players seemed to get into the spirit of the thing and actually played with a great deal of relish for the reality of the battle. Rory figured this was probably as much fun as some of them would ever experience in college and they would be telling this story to their grandchildren some day ages and ages hence. Logan played a masterful game and in the end he outwitted his opponent in a last stunning gambit for checkmate. It was nearing dawn when the final battle was played out and the winner was announced with great pomp and circumstance to be Logan's team. Rory had never been so thankful when the team with some wickedness announced the punishment the losing team would face. Streaking naked through the library at high noon was not something she wished to have as part of her sordid past.
The party was winding to an end and before she knew it Rory was piled back in the ever-present SUV and on her way back to the civilized world. Strangely Logan seemed to be keeping to his word and on the ride back she found herself seated between Colin and Stephanie with Logan in the driver's seat. It all seemed a somewhat anticlimactic end to the strangest weekend of her life but she wasn't necessarily unhappy with a return to some semblance of everyday reality.
Rory was tired clear to her bones by the time she found herself outside her dorm room. The yearning for adventure had been effectively purged from her bloodstream and she thought that if she didn't do anything daring for the rest of her natural life that would be just fine with her. She felt as if she had spent the last 48 hours unplugged from the Matrix, slipping through some rabbit hole in the space-time continuum and existing for that brief blink in time in a completely parallel universe. At this moment she wanted nothing more than to kiss her door, the symbolic gateway to normal. In fact she did unintentionally manage a rather classy face plant onto its wooden veneer less from any misguided and irrational attachment to inanimate objects than from sheer exhaustion as she dug blindly for her keys.
The door swung open and she took a deep breath as if to inhale the very essence of normality.... it smelled a little like coffee and books. She yearned for boredom, dreamt of tedium; the mundane beckoned like a long lost friend. She staggered towards her room dropping her bag along the way following the siren song of her welcoming bed. The figure behind the newspaper on the couch didn't so much as twitch in recognition, Paris could often be quite engrossed when perusing the morning headlines so this was no surprise, one of the main reasons they had managed to cohabitate without resorting to homicide was the unwritten rule that no conversation be attempted before 8 am and never without the copious consumption of caffeine as a prerequisite.
"There's no place like home." She mumbled to herself as she headed for her own room and blessed oblivion.
"Did you just quote the Wizard of Oz?" The voice was distinctly male and unless her mind was playing tricks on her it was all too familiar. She was a foot from her door when the paper dropped halfway and revealed the face of its reader. She froze in place a blinked several times in rapid succession praying for delirium, hallucination, anything that would explain away the visage that kept reappearing on her couch. Her mouth dropped open in an attempted shriek that came out a mere garbled squeak instead, smothered by the sheer weight of horror as she tried to wrap her enfeebled brain around the totally absurd notion that the figure on her couch was indeed none other than her esteemed editor, Doyle.
She tried for speech again but was thwarted a second time when he dropped the paper further and revealed the fact that he was wearing one of Paris' robes that was disturbing enough when Paris herself wore it and was launched straight to the realm of fodder for nightmares when you were forced, on too little sleep and with no warning to see it modeled by your male editor. Her squawk sounded a little like Parrrgh this time and got Paris' attention from where she was standing in the kitchen wearing...horror of horrors, Doyle's shirt.
She turned with an inquisitive look and no cutting remark which for Paris was the equivalent of a jaunty hello and Rory began to wonder if she was truly hallucinating after all, either that or....Paris was having sex, oh, ick, gross, damn her brain for going there, she was definitely going to have to bleach her subconscious to remove that stain.
"Hey Gilmore, how was the story gathering outing?" This was said as if absolutely nothing was out of ordinary in their usually neat and ordered universe.
Rory looked wildly at the figure on the couch again. Doyle raised an eyebrow in his infamous editor's inquisitive look which was just sooooo entirely out of place for a shorty robe that she could not make the two elements mesh in her brain and quickly stopped trying. "Story? "
Paris nodded sagely "Yeah our little Mary Tyler Moore here just spent about 48 hours in the company of one Logan Huntzberger et al, if there isn't a story worth reading out of that then our girl here should probably just retire now and take up knitting or something that is a more constructive use of time."
Doyle looked excited "Great, have a draft on my desk by Wednesday and I will give you my thoughts. Good work Gilmore." He set the paper aside and climbed to his feet crossing to where Paris held out a mug of coffee for him.
"You want coffee Gilmore?" Paris asked in a neutral voice that would have counted as any other girl's version of Martha Stewart on uppers kind of voice and made Rory want to escape into a coma right then and there. It was probably the only time in her life when turning down coffee was the lesser of two evils. Rory clapped one hand over her eyes figuring her sautéed brain didn't need much more of this type of fuel to reach the combustion point.
She waved in their general direction and mumbled something about catching up later. Sure, right, like later after hell froze over or after she considered going the way of Sylvia Plath just to avoid discussion of their current dishabille and the preamble to said condition. She hadn't thought it could get much worse than Asher Fleming but leave it to Paris, the eternal overachiever to top that by sleeping with a guy that Rory had to work with, smile at, and generally kow tow to since he was her superior. It definitely added an exponentially higher level of difficulty to a good suck up when you were picturing your superior wearing your roommates blue flowered shorty robe. She was going to need major psychotherapy after this little interlude. She shuddered as she closed her bedroom door securely and leaned up against it in silent relief.
The sound of Doyle giggling as he squabbled with Paris over the opinion page sent her running for cover. Just another day in the lives of your average neurotic antisocial nutcases of the world. Buried beneath a pile of pillows with her headphones on and the stereo cranked she finally considered the state of current affairs. Rory rolled her eyes towards heaven but was quite sure that there was no divine intervention coming form that quarter. She had pretty much used up her quota. Apparently while she was away on a short jaunt into bizarro land normal had packed up and moved and left no forwarding address.
Her first class wasn't until 10 o'clock, thank god for small favors, so she did manage a few hours of sleep before drenching herself in the coldest water she could stand and putting on the first piece of clothing her hand hit in the closet which turned out to be a rather fetching little blue sweater and jeans, lucky for her because in this state she could have walked out the door in stripes, polka dots and a purple feather boa and not known the difference. She worried her lip as she stood at the entrance to the courtyard trying to decide the best game plan for the day. Paris and (shudder) Doyle were absent from the apartment when she woke which was just as well because another encounter of the close up with Doyle's legs kind probably would have pushed her right off the ledge. That meant she had to avoid both her normal coffee stand and the newspaper office as both held potential interaction with a number of people that she would really rather not see until she had a little sleep , about a tanker full of coffee and some time, like say a year or two, to figure out how the hell to extricate herself from the current snarl of threads that her life had become. If only she could just find the end of one of those threads and pull it out of the mess then she might be able to find some semblance of order in the pattern of the weaving. Only, she didn't know which thread to pull without unraveling the entire thing.
She managed to make it through her classes without any unfortunate run ins and was just breathing a sigh of relief as she trudged back to her room debating whether to make an appearance at the newsroom when suddenly she remembered the conversation with her mom from what seemed like a lifetime ago. She had promised to meet her tonight in Stars Hollow. She had better double check and make sure they were still on for seven. She pulled out her cell phone recalling as well that she hadn't checked her messages since yesterday evening. She pushed the voicemail button as walked into the courtyard of Branford.
She was listening to the greeting...8 messages... "Hey Ace, you're a difficult woman to find." Logan's voice stopped her dead in her tracks halfway across her courtyard and she cursed her total ineptness at subterfuge. She would suck as a spy. She took a calming breath and turned towards his voice he was leaning against one side of a portico directly across from the entrance to Branford and looked like he might have been sculpted there, portrait of a collegiate Don Juan. His grin was welcoming but he didn't move when he saw her. She might have hesitated unsure whether she was ready to face his particular brand of temptation had she not spied the two rather large cups of coffee he was holding. Points to him for knowing the quickest way to short circuit any resistance on her part.
She half listened to a message from Lane about some new drama with Zach and Brian that involved use of the TV remote as she crossed the courtyard to stand in front of Logan. She pointed to one of the coffees and then to herself "For me?" she mouthed. He nodded and held one out to her "I come bearing gifts." He said with a widening grin. He unfurled himself from his patient position and handed it to her with a little bow. She grabbed it with greedy hands as she held the phone between her ear and her shoulder. She was about to hang up the phone when it told her the next message was from her mother. She figured she had better listen to it in case there had been a change of plans for tonight . She smiled gratefully at Logan and then took a huge gulp of the blessedly hot liquid. It wasn't as good as Luke's coffee but it would do in a pinch. She swallowed and took another large gulp.
Her mom's voice came on the other end of the line and it sounded like she was trying to hold back laughter "One word...pom poms, or is that two words, I'll let you be the judge." Click.
It was like a sucker punch straight to the gut and in her horror and shock she choked on the hot coffee and spat it out in a vain attempt to draw a breath in. The phone dropped to the ground and she stared at it for a long moment silently wishing away the words that it had just played back at her....instrument f the devil that it was. Logan was stunned not only by the action that now had hot coffee dripping off the front of his sweater but at the glassy eyed shock in her eyes that implied that she hadn't even done it on purpose. She had one hand on her coffee cup and her mouth, now empty of coffee dropped open in horror as she regarded the phone on the ground like it might be a live rattlesnake about to bite her. He wasn't sure if she was horrified at the coffee she had spit at him or at whatever the mysterious being on the other end of the phone had said.
Logan looked down at the coffee dripping from his sweater again and cracked a smile in her direction "I'm really hoping that your little impression of a coffee fountain has more to do with whoever was just talking on your phone and is not a reflection of your opinion of me."
Rory gaped at him for a second as four distinctly different emotions course through her, shock at Lorelai's knowledge of the cheerleading stunt, embarrassment at spitting coffee all over Logan, attraction to the quirky little smile of his and sheer hysteria at the Jim Carrey monologue that her life had become. She went with the last one and a little delirious laugh bubbled up and led to another, soon she was clutching her stomach as she laughed uncontrollably. Strangely she had expected their first encounter after last night to be awkward and stilted, she would have to thank her mom for breaking the ice on that one. The look of surprise on Logan's face only made her laugh harder until there were tears gathering at the corner of her eyes. Somewhere along the line he joined her as he saluted her with the other coffee cup. When they finally subsided she wiped the errant moisture from her eyes and regarded him half solemnly, still chuckling a little over their silliness.
She straightened "Come on Huntzberger, wouldn't want you to catch anything standing out here in the cold, I think I have a towel in my suite."
He looked a little surprised at the invitation but she figured it was the least she could do after spitting coffee all over him. Although really the way she figured it the situation was in some twisted way his fault and perhaps the coffee baptism was an ironically fitting punishment for his part in the corruption of Rory Gilmore. She opened the door to the suite and swept a hand in the direction of the sofa as he entered behind her. "Have a seat and I will find you a towel." She paused and pointed to the closest end of the couch "I would avoid that spot if I were you, I think it may have Doyle cooties."
His eyebrows shot up "Doyle, as in Doyle the Daily News taskmaster?"
She nodded as she headed for her room in search of towels "It's a long story which I do not care to relive, besides I'm trying to spare your delicate sensibilities, this is one story you are better off not knowing."
He sat gingerly and began to peel off the wet sweater, the shirt underneath was had a big wet spot on the front as well so it quickly followed the sweater onto the floor. He took a moment to survey the suite a little surprised that he had been so easily invited in to her sanctuary. This day was not shaping up the way he had envisioned it. He had expected a little more caginess and bush circling before he was allowed in these hallowed walls. Of course, he was only here now because of some strange phone message which had clearly knocked her off balance. He called out to where she had vanished to in her room "So are you going to tell me what prompted your projectile coffee art? Message from the ex?" he guessed aloud.
"Worse." Her voice was muffled as if it was buried in some kind of fabric. He rose from the couch and walked towards her room leaning in the doorway to continue the conversation. He found her with her head in her closet apparently looking for something.
"Worse than an ex? Now the curiosity is killing me." She threw a towel on the bed but still hadn't spotted him standing in the doorway, she continued to yell as if he was still in the other room as she turned towards the shirts in the closet. "it was my mom....suffice it to say she knows about the pom poms. I should have known it was only a matter of time before she heard about it, keeping this kind of thing a secret in Stars Hollow is virtually impossible. "
He threw back his head and hooted in laughter. "Perfect, that's perfect."
Her voice was disgruntled to say the least. "Yeah, you find it funny, that's because you won't have to live the next twenty years of your life hearing fake cheers and being the subject of inane debates between Kirk and Taylor about whether wearing a cheerleading outfit has in some way violated some antiquated town code. If my mom knows that pretty much guarantees that Babette knows and Miss Patty knows and if Miss Patty knows then everyone within a 50-mile radius knows. It would take a miracle or Miss Patty getting married again to displace this one from the top ten stories in Stars Hollow history."
"You make this town of yours sound a little blood thirsty...I thought you liked it?"
She nodded still with her back to him "Oh, I love it, but its a small town, they live for gossip and they NEVER forget anything. I just don't like being the grist for the mill, its much more fun as an observer. Do you know that when my mom and Luke started dating they actually had a town meeting vote about whether they could stay together and Luke had to promise that he would leave town if they ever broke up."
She turned towards the chair by the window and continued "Oh, I almost forgot, I still have your tuxedo jacket from last night." She grabbed it and spun back towards the door stopping dead in her tracks when she saw him, half naked lounging in her doorway. Her mouth went completely dry as her eyes took on a will of their own and traced the lines of his chest up from his waistband to his face. Why did he have to be such a specimen of male beauty. His wit, his now evident brains AND a body like that...it just wasn't fair play. Her mouth opened and closed several times but no sound came out. She had traveled for the last 48 hours in his company, broken more rules that she could count, lived on the edge of danger, slept in the same bed, spilled her darkest secrets, danced, argued, even kissed him, it had been one big roller coaster ride of anger, fear, dawning attraction and exploration. But somehow it was this moment, him standing in her bedroom doorway half naked that brought it home to her at last. She was somehow, despite her best intentions, involved with Logan Huntzberger in some as yet unnamed and undefined relationship.
How had she gone in the space of a mere 48 hours from detesting the very sight of him to drooling over his half naked torso? She couldn't trace the steps even if she wanted to they were so convoluted and yet somehow it made sense in aggregate. She didn't want to be one of those girls, the ones that a few arrogantly charming lines and flirtatious smile could cause to swoon at the feet of the charming rake. But she wasn't, her mind screamed, she wasn't one of those girls because he wasn't one of those guys.
He watched her gape and struggle for composure for a long moment, wanting more than anything to cross the distance between them and kiss that shock right off her tempting lips. The desire to do just that had been cropping up at the most inopportune times since last night. But he resisted temptation, this move had to be hers. If he took the step it would leave them right where they were without any progress. She took a hesitant step towards him still holding his jacket, another tiny step and she held it out to him. He took it, eyes still locked with hers but careful not to touch her. He slowly shrugged it on. He looked charmingly ridiculous with his designer jeans and a tuxedo jacket with no shirt, maybe it was the ridiculous that made him suddenly seem human, the slight insecurity in his eyes that made her itch to run her hand over that flesh that remained exposed. She narrowed the distance and with a little breath she was an inch from his face. "Is this what you call giving me time?" she breathed, barely above a whisper.
He gave her a little half smile, too intent on her face so close to his to turn on the full wattage "I'm just the bearer of coffee, you were the one who spit coffee on me so that I would have to disrobe." He raised an eyebrow "maybe its your subconscious talking.'
"No I think it was my mom."
He wiggled an eyebrow, lightening the heavy awareness slightly "Kinky but hey to each his own.'
It was the playful smile that got her, that was what was different about him, he understood her, understood that humor was the panacea for all things, it wasn't all angst and strife or rainbows and roses, it was life, you made fun of yourself when things went wrong, you made an idiot of yourself but you went on. Suddenly she knew that she would regret it for the rest of her life if she didn't give this thing, whatever it was between them, a chance.
"You know Huntzberger" She leaned forward and the last of the space separating them disappeared. "I am beginning to believe those rumors about your charm aren't all just exaggeration after all." The possibilities shimmered in the space between them like a mirage.
The slamming of the door cracked the moment to pieces. Paris took one look at the strangely dress Logan and Rory with a rosy blush creeping up her cheeks and gave a disgusted huff "You have the gall to be disgusted about MY sex life?" she turned on her heel and flounced into her room slamming the door behind her.
"What was all that about?" Logan asked with a wrinkled brow.
Rory rolled her eyes "Ignorance is bliss trust me on this one."
He smiled and stroked a finger down her flushed cheek and then stepped back "Maybe we should continue this, uh, conversation later."
He unfurled himself slowly from his stance like the graceful stretch of a cat. He regarded her silently as he dug in the back pocket of his jeans. Finally he held out a small envelope to her. "I actually came to bring you this."
She stared straight into his eyes as she took it from his hand. "What's is it?"
His smile flashed "Don't worry, no bribes, threats or incriminating photos, I swear."
She shook the envelope suspiciously while he watched with an amused smirk "Your lack of faith after all that we've been through...like a knife in the heart."
She rolled her eyes "I would have to be brain dead to trust you. You are like the original Hustler, trusting you is like practically handing over my pride, dignity and in some cases my common sense on a silver platter. The more time I spend with you the less I trust you, it's like an inverse relationship."
"Well, then this little note should cement your less than stellar opinion of me."
"I think that confirmation letter has already been received." She ripped open the envelope and pulled out a small heavy weight card , on it was printed an address in New Haven. She turned it over in confusion but there was nothing on the back. She waved it at him "Explain please, and leave out the subterfuge and declarification please."
He gave her a knowing look "If you remember our little wager, you owe me a coffee date. Every day for a month, today I came to you but from now on it's on my choice of turf. Meet me at that address at 9 am tomorrow for the next payment of debts."
She looked at him searchingly "How do you know I don't have an 8 am class? Have you been spying on me?"
He gave her a lofty look "I can't divulge my sources."
"Figures, the only time you fall back on the journalistic code of honor is when it suits your nefarious purposes."
"Selfish perhaps but I wouldn't quite cop to nefarious. See you tomorrow Ace, 9 a sharp, don't be late."
He collected his discarded clothes and she followed him to the door still staring at the little card.
"Nice to see you Paris" Logan yelled in a cheerful taunt. There was a muffled remark from behind the closed door that was unmistakably sarcastic in nature and Logan turned back to Rory. "She's just jealous because I only have eyes for you." He stuffed his hands in his pockets and backed out the open doorway with a wink.
It was said playfully but those warm laughing eyes, the smoothly handsome face with its roguish smile and the incongruously elegant tuxedo jacket half open with no shirt underneath over his jeans was enough to melt even her considerable defenses. That perhaps was the moment when the dam broke. Going purely with instinct she stepped forward and caught him by surprise when her lips met his softly. The kiss was brief but the sweetness of its promise lingered on his lips long after she had backed away almost shyly. "Tomorrow."
She closed the door on the whimsical grin that split his face and let out an unsteady breath. She decided that she was going to head for Stars Hollow a little early and see if she could catch her mom at the Inn, discussion of this couldn't wait any longer even if it meant enduring the requisite taunting about the cheerleading stunt.
Logan was flying, as much from the anticipation of what was to come as the thrill of euphoria from the brief kiss. He stuffed his hands in his pockets and strolled away with a little bounce to his step. The future had never held more allure.
He sauntered over to his dorm and entered Finn's room without even knocking, what would be the point sleeping beauty never bothered to lock the door, or answer it for that matter. To his surprise he found both Colin and Finn awake and apparently engaged in some argument. Finn was wearing sunglasses as per the usual scenario and his hair was sticking up in about ten different directions suggesting that it wasn't long ago that he was still abed. Colin looked pressed and polished and neat as any Rhode's scholar, also not out of the ordinary. They both stopped their bickering abruptly when Logan plopped down on a chair opposite them with a dreamy look on his face. After a long moment of silence Colin finally spoke "Okay, lover boy what gives? You look over the moon about something."
Logan smiled and Finn groaned "He's been kissing Woodward again, I can tell, he has that look of an addict that has just gotten a fix. Its lamentable that love can turn to mush even the brains of once intelligent men."
Logan made a tsk tsking sound "Finn my friend you have got to stop spouting philosophical advice, if you aren't careful people might start to think that there is a brain in that scarecrow head of yours and then where will you be."
Finn put a finger to his chin in thought "It was Cervantes who once said the most difficult character in comedy is that of the fool, and he must be no simpleton that plays that part."
Colin rolled his eyes "You are impossible."
"Well I believe Douglas Adams, a little respected yet wise philosopher once wrote the impossible often has a kind of integrity which the merely improbable lacks."
This went on for a while, the bickering of the sidekicks and the goofy grinning of the hero as his mind whirled in giddy delight at the possibilities that lay visible through the crack of the door that had just been opened.
She dashed into Luke's at five past seven and was intercepted by an excited Lane. "Hey Rory, thank god you have resurfaced from the black hole. I've left you like six messages...I am in serious need of some girl time. Zach is driving me crazy with his obsession with hiding from my mom."
Rory stopped the babbling Lane "I'm sorry, I was sort of avoiding checking my messages for reasons that I will explain in great depth later, I m here now though and what is better than one on one face time? What time are you done? I'll come over to your place after I talk to my mom."
Lane gave her a thankful look "I'm off at 8, I'll meet you there, I'm drowning in boy land and it will be great to get a Rory flotation device."
