Gilmore Girls
These Things I Know
A/N: I know, again, I should finish my other stories first but I just saw the end of Season Five and my mind will not stop thinking about Logan and Rory so I had to write this. Happy reading! Genevra.
Summary: You might finally have what you thought you always wanted but the truth is this- you don't know what you've got 'til its gone.
Disclaimer: I do not own nor am I affiliated with Gilmore Girls in anyway.
Chapter Two: Baggage
"Dean?" Rory called, letting herself in. She walked in and found her Botega Veneta suitcases stacked in the hallway. She touched the leather and felt pain stab her stomach.
"Rory, that you?" Dean called from down the hall. She made her way to the kitchen and around the dining room table.
"Hey," she said, placing her cool hands on his back. He turned around and traced the outline of her face before kissing her. She closed her eyes and Logan's face popped into her mind. She opened her eyes and blinked.
"You okay?" Dean asked, pulling slightly away.
"Fine," she replied, leaning in to kiss him again.
"You're here now?"
"I'm here, Dean," she replied, feeling the energy drain out of her. "Who bought my stuff over?"
"Some black guy in a limo," Dean answered, nonchalantly. Rory knew automatically it was Frank as she had released them the night before. Dean's indifference to who he was annoyed her considering Dean himself wasn't the richest guy on the block.
"His name is Frank," Rory said.
"He's you chauffeur," Dean replied.
"Was," Rory corrected. "I don't have one anymore. But Frank was more than a driver. He was my friend."
"Who drove you around," Dean retorted, getting annoyed.
"Whatever," Rory said. "I'm going to move in my suitcases out of the hallway."
"You want some help?" Dean asked.
"I'm fine," Rory snapped.
"Aren't you going to unpack?" Dean said, after watching Rory drag her suitcases into the spare room.
"Have you seen the size of your closets?" she said, loftily. "There's no room. My clothes are expensive. I'd rather just keep them in my suitcase."
"That's going to damage them more," Dean explained.
"I know," Rory said.
"Are you having second thoughts?" Dean asked.
"I'm just not ready yet!" she snapped. "I didn't even leave my husband twelve hours ago and you're asking me to move on."
"That's right. You left him to start a life with me," Dean retorted.
"That doesn't make it any easier," she shot back. " I just feel so broken. Weren't you hurt when you left Lindsay?"
"Of course," he said. "But I got over it."
"Yeah," Rory agreed. "Exactly. In time. I'm not over it yet."
She slammed the door behind her and sunk down to the ground in front of the door. Her whole body shook with the sobs and she was sure she was banging the door. She heard a knock on the door and Dean call out her voice, softly.
"Go away!" she screamed.
"Rory, please," he said. "Let me in. I'm sorry."
"I just want to be alone," she cried. She heard Dean finally sigh and give up. His feet clomped in his work boots as he walked down the hall and back to the kitchen where he had been fixing the sink.
It all seemed so homey and domestic. Everything she thought she had ever wanted but when she had seen him, she had fought the urge to offer to call her and Logan's plumber. It seemed the rich and famous lifestyle had overtaken her more than she had thought.
She crawled over to the suitcases and opened the first one. Photo albums.
She started crying again before she even opened it. She knew what was in there.
Wedding photos.
-
"Logan, I have someone on the phone for Rory," his assistant said, poking her head through the door. "What should I tell them?"
"Put them through to me," he said, looking straight through her. She nodded and walked back out to her desk. Logan's phone started to ring and he picked it up. "Logan Huntzberger."
"Mr. Huntzberger, it's Alison from NYT," the woman said. "I was actually after your wife."
"My wife has gone back home for awhile," Logan explained. "There was a situation and I don't know how long she's going to be. I was going to let everybody know in an e-mail later today."
"Oh, I'm sorry to hear that," Alison replied. "I hope everything turns out okay."
"So do I," he replied, without missing a beat.
"Whom will I be dealing with instead of her?" she asked.
"We haven't decided yet," he admitted. "I'll let you know as soon as I know who'll be taking her position."
"Thank you and again, I hope everything works out okay," she said.
"Again, so do I. Thanks for calling, Alison," he said, hanging up. The phone rang immediately.
"Mr. Huntzberger, it's Marisa," their housekeeper said in her Spanish accent. "Someone is here to see Mrs. Huntzberger. An appointment she forgot about perhaps. What should I do?"
"She must have forgotten," Logan replied. "Marisa, please just tell everyone what I told you. That Mrs. Huntzberger had to go back home for awhile because there's a family situation."
"Yes, Mr. Huntzberger," she replied. "Sorry to bother you at work."
"It's fine, Marisa," he answered. "Have a nice day."
"Oh, you too, Mr. Huntzberger," she replied, hanging up.
Logan's eyes automatically traveled to the framed photos on the wall. Photos of Rory and of him and Rory. One of the Gilmore/Danes family and another of the Huntzberger family but mostly there were photos of his wife. He wanted to take them down but that meant admitting defeat. He knew Rory had been devastated when she'd left and he knew she was not in love with Dean no matter what she thought.
He noticed an email he hadn't seen before sent at 4am the morning before. It was from Rory, the notes for the stories she had been working on to give to her replacement. That was her way of telling him, as if the fact that it was 11am and she had yet to show her face at the office wasn't telling enough, that she was not coming back.
The phone rang again and Logan sighed before picking it up.
"Logan Huntzberger," he said.
"Hey."
"Hey yourself."
"I was just wondering if you'd decided whom to replace me with yet," she said.
"Stephanie's always available," he said, unable to take a jibe at his wife. "Or maybe Whitney. You met her, remember? I hear she's single."
"Ouch," Rory said.
"You deserve that, Ace, and you know it," he replied
"I know," she agreed. "Let me rephrase that question, have you decided who to replace me with at the newspaper?"
"Not yet," he answered, his voice cold and distant. He heard Rory sniffle and he noticed her voice was nasal. She had been crying.
"Well, I thought you might like a suggestion," she said. "Anna Vasquez."
"Really? You think?" he asked.
"She's a terrific write and I've been working with her lots lately," Rory explained.
"But she's a junior staffer."
"She's also the junior staffer who has more above-the-fold's than some of our senior staffers," Rory shot back.
"True," Logan agreed. "But still…"
"Promote her," Rory said. "And if you don't, I will."
"Fine," he settled. "I will."
"Thanks," she replied. They drifted into silence. "How are you holding up, Logan?"
"I have to go, Rory," he said. "I have a meeting in ten minutes."
"No, you don't," she said.
"I just have to go," he said. "And Rory, you sound like you're starting to get a cold. Take care of yourself."
He hung up before Rory could answer.
-
Dean tried again a little while later. He knocked on the door and then pushed on it quietly. He found Rory asleep on the bed, assorted knick-knacks and photo albums splayed around her. He sighed and moved them all back into the suitcase before gently easing himself down on the bed next to her.
"What's going on?" she asked groggily.
"Shh," he comforted, putting his arm around her. "It's okay."
"Mmm," she said, settling back down. She yawned and blinked looking around the unfamiliar room and feeling the unfamiliar arms around her.
"Rory, I'm sorry," he said. "I should have been more understanding."
"It's okay," she replied.
"I'm really happy that you're here," he said.
"Yeah," she replied, non-commitally. She yawned again. "I'm really tired so…"
"I'll stay with you for a little while," he offered.
"Sure," she said. She blindly reached out for her cell phone and switched it off. Logan would call, she just knew it, and she didn't think that Dean would be understanding at all.
