Mathew pushed open the door to the Rum House, surveying his surroundings with an apprehensive eye. He wasn't sure what he was doing here; he thought he was done being caught up in the War of the Huntzbergers. He'd come treacherously close to losing his job—or worse—in the weeks after Logan had informed him of the nefarious nature of his boss's relationship with Rory Gilmore. Between the numerous times he'd been instructed to call her to his office and she had failed to show, and the time when he'd not so subtly distracted Mitchum long enough after the staff meeting to give Rory a chance to escape, Mitchum had clearly suspected that he knew more than he was letting on. And while Matthew didn't want anyone to get hurt, there was only so much he could do without risking everything. His boss was a powerful man, and not someone he wanted as an enemy.

It had honestly been a relief when Rory had quit. Sure, Mitchum had been in an even more foul mood than he'd ever seen him, but at least Matthew didn't need to put himself right in the man's crosshairs anymore. And he figured with Rory and Logan both out of the picture, Mitchum would move on soon enough. That had been over a month ago, and while Mitchum wasn't completely flying off the handle every five minutes anymore, it was clear that things were still far from being back to the status quo. In fact, the man was acting withdrawn and secretive, which almost made Mathew even more nervous.

So really, it was beyond insane for him to be here. And yet, pure curiosity drove him farther into the bar. How could he not be curious when he'd been cornered in the men's room by the same guy who had, not that long ago, given him an envelope to give to Mitchum which contained something that felt suspiciously like a diamond ring. The same man who had frequently been seen eating lunch with Rory Gilmore. He had another envelope for him this time, but this one contained nothing but paper and the contents were meant for Mathew himself.

The note inside was from Logan; asking him to meet him at this bar, at this time. He should have put the note through the shredder and forgotten he'd ever gotten it, but against his better judgement, here he was. Besides, he'd convinced himself, these were the kind of clandestine dealings that made great fodder for a novel and Mathew had been suffering from some pretty nasty writer's block lately.

He finally found Logan sitting at a corner table, a newspaper in front of him—not one published by HPG, he noted. Mathew hesitated, but ultimately, his feet started carrying him in that direction, and he pulled out the chair across from Logan and sat.

"If your father knew I was here…" Mathew started.

"Don't worry about Mitchum," Logan replied, folding up his paper and setting it down.

Mathew rested his elbow on the table, reaching his hand up to rub his temple, trying to will away the stress headache. "You, of all people, know that Mitchum is exactly the type of man one needs to be worried about."

"True," Logan agreed, leaning back in his chair nonchalantly, "but I've already worried about him for you."

Mathew took in Logan's seemingly relaxed demeanor with suspicion, and just a touch of suppressed rage. How could he be so calm about this? "What is that supposed to mean?"

Logan's eye flicked up and over towards the bar. "The bald guy in the checkered button down, no tie…" he stated, "…he's spying on us."

"What?!" He threw a terrified glance over his shoulder while simultaneously pushing his chair back, preparing to get the hell out of there. His rage was no longer so suppressed.

"Relax," Logan instructed. "He's too far away to hear us, but big suspicious movements probably aren't a good idea."

With a huff, Mathew resettled his chair in front of the table, crossing his arms across his chest and glaring at Logan. He couldn't believe Logan had done this to him. He'd done what Logan had asked and tried his best, within reason, to keep Rory from being alone with Mitchum at the office—at great personal risk—because Rory was a nice girl, and he didn't want to see her get hurt. He didn't want to see any girls get hurt. But he wasn't the police, or some battered woman's organization. This wasn't his job, and he didn't want to be involved in it. But here Logan was, bringing him in to this…and he knew they were being watched? The guy had a hell of a set of balls on him. Then again, should he really have expected anything less from the progeny of Mitchum Huntzberger.

"When Mitchum hears that I had lunch with you…"

"When Mr. KGB over there tells Mitchum you had lunch with me, Mitchum will already know you had lunch with me because you're going to tell him first."

"Excuse me?" Mathew's eyebrows arched up. What exactly was Logan up to here?

"I don't expect you to keep this meeting a secret, in fact, I want you to tell Mitchum all about it."

"So you have a message for him?"

"Not exactly."

Mathew groaned in frustration. "Can you please stop with the cryptic."

Logan sat up, his infuriatingly relaxed disposition finally transforming into a posture that actually reflected the gravity of the situation. "I have a few questions for you. Nothing that should get you into any deep water. And at the end, you get to go back to the office, and tell Mitchum that I was poking my nose around, trying to get information. You get to be the loyal assistant and prove to him you can be trusted."

Mathew narrowed his eyes skeptically. "What's the catch?"

"No catch."

Something wasn't adding up. Why would Logan want his father to know he was sniffing around for information on him? Hadn't he accrued enough of Mitchum's wrath? If he was planning something, the element of surprise was his best friend. And if not, laying low and trying to stay off his radar was his best bet at getting to have an even semi-normal life. "What do you want to know?"

"How long have you been working for my father?"

Mathew shrugged, it was an innocuous enough question. "Three years."

"And other than Rory, are you aware of any other relationships he had?"

Mathew considered this. "Relationships? No. I made occasional reservations for two at romantic restaurants. Set up a couple one on one meetings between him and pretty, young, female reporters. But I don't recall him ever seeing any of them more than a couple times."

Logan nodded. "And do you know who had your job before you?"

"Wait." That was it? No follow up? What was going on here? "You're not going to ask me who the women were?"

"Would you tell me?"

Mathew hadn't actually thought that far ahead, he just knew he'd been expecting the question. Could he even remember who they were? "Umm…"

"Never mind, I don't want you to tell me."

"Why not?" He was so confused. Logan had to have an angle here, but he had no clue what it was.

Logan shrugged. "Because when you tell Mitchum I was asking, he's going to want to know if you told me. Then he's going to reach out to those women to make sure I haven't been in contact. I don't want to put you or them in danger."

Mathew reached up to rub wearily at his face. "Then what the hell is this even about?"

"You're better off not knowing." He was hardly surprised by the response. Logan obviously had his reasons, and Mathew wasn't supposed to know what they were. He let his gaze appraise the man sitting across from him. Despite everything, despite the crappy position Logan was currently putting him in, the truth was, Mathew knew he was a good guy. And if it came down to Mitchum versus Logan, he'd put his money on Logan being on the right side of that war any day. Mathew just wasn't sure he was willing to cross Mitchum to do it. But if he could help Logan and earn some good will from his powerful boss, well, he supposed he had no choice but to do what Logan was asking.

"Marcy Collins."

"Who?"

"Mitchum's executive assistant before me."

Logan nodded. "Thanks."

"Just, whatever you're up to Logan, I hope you know what you're doing."

"Don't worry, I do," Logan assured him. "Now get up and pretend to be pissed at me."

Mathew rolled his eyes. "That shouldn't be a hard sell."

Logan chuckled as Mathew shoved back his chair and stood up in a huff, storming out of the bar.

He shifted restlessly on the dark moss green sofa. His eyes flicked up, darting around the empty apartment. He tried to force his attention back to his notes on the laptop in front of him. He needed to concentrate; Rory was going to be there any minute and this was an important meeting. He had a few potential leads on Peterson; his victims were reluctant to speak out, but he was proliferative enough in his scumbaggery that Jackson was confident he'd be able to get a least a couple women to go on record. But if they wanted to pin down Mitchum specifically for his transgressions and not just for the cover-up, that was going to rely heavily on Rory. And she already had credibility issues because of her…whatever she had with Logan, even if it wasn't romantic.

Still, no matter how hard Jackson tried to focus, he couldn't keep his eyes from wandering; from the artwork on the wall—scribbled line drawings of aboriginal people with pops of gold embellishment—to the bookshelf smattered with everything from thick, leatherbound hard covers to battered paperbacks to vintage vinyl records all in no discernable organizational scheme, to the closed door of the bedroom on the other side of the apartment. Jackson itched to get up, to explore, to check for photo albums or stealthily hidden secret shames like a box set of all four seasons of Felicity.

Jackson checked his watch. There were still a few more minutes until Rory arrived, he should really go over the questions he wanted to ask. Instead, he set his laptop down on the ottoman and got up, heading to the kitchen. He just needed a bottle of water; he totally wasn't planning to snoop through the refrigerator just to see what Finn ate. What did it matter; food was food? What did he expect to find, Vegemite and TimTams?

He pulled open the fridge, quickly slamming it back shut in horror. Okay, maybe that wasn't such a good idea after all. How was Finn not dead from food poisoning? Even the mold had mold. He did think he saw a jar of Vegemite though. Or what had once been Vegemite before it had fermented in the wasteland that was Finn's refrigerator. Or was Vegemite pre-fermented? He wasn't sure about that. Actually, he wasn't really sure what Vegemite was at all. Not that it mattered. Whatever was in that contraption needed to go to food heaven—Vegemite and all. In fact, Finn should just throw the entire appliance away and start from scratch…god knew he had the money.

Jackson was interrupted by the sound of a knock on the door. Rory; it was show time. He pushed back the concerns of Finn's demise at the hands of E. coli and went to answer the door.

"Hi," the girl timidly waved at him. Jackson could see what Logan saw in her. She was pretty. Not his sort of pretty, of course; he preferred tall, lean, and muscular…with a penis…and apparently an Australian accent. But just because he was gay didn't mean he was blind. Rory Gilmore had a rare kind of beauty; understated but unquestionable.

"Come in." She stepped through the threshold, her eyes scanning over the apartment. She was timid, and nervous, and there was something about her that seemed almost…broken. He could understand why Logan might feel the urge to want to save her. But there was also strength; a sort of defiance that said 'I refuse to be a victim.' That was good; she was going to need that in the weeks to come.

Jackson led her over to the couch to sit. "I haven't been in Finn's apartment before," she noted as she took her seat.

Jackson had been there a few times…just in the last week. He was getting far too comfortable with sleeping on the King-sized memory foam mattress and 400 thread count silk sheets. But that was not really an appropriate topic of conversation at the moment. "It was good of him to let us use his place.

"Yeah," Rory nodded her head and fidgeted in her seat.

"Did you want something to drink?" he asked. Dear lord, the thought of going back in that kitchen was terrifying. "There's tap water…and Bourbon, I think."

Rory chuckled nervously. "Yeah, that sounds like Finn." Jackson felt a little pang at the thought that this girl knew what did and did not sound like Finn. "I'm good," she replied in response to the original question. She reached into the large tote bag she'd brought with her and pulled out a large, reusable water bottle. "I used to make fun of people who carried water bottles with them everywhere, but I did this article on recycling that made me vow to eschew single use water bottles for the rest of eternity."

"Yeah, they really lied to our generation about that, didn't they?" Jackson agreed with a smile.

Rory sighed. "I guess we should get started."

Jackson concurred. "I'm sure you realize I know a little bit about what happened with you and Mitchum Huntzberger," he informed her. She nodded. "But this is your story, your life. I'm just here to listen to it. However much of it you're willing to tell me. And anything you say is on background until you say otherwise. Okay?"

Rory nodded in acceptance.

"I'm going to take some notes, if that's alright." He held up the pad of paper he had. She nodded again.

"I don't really know where to begin."

"How about at the beginning? How did this relationship with you and Mitchum start?"

Rory pulled her lower lip in between her teeth, gnawing pensively as she collected her thoughts. "Well, I've always wanted to be a journalist…foreign correspondent. I literally wanted to be Christiane Amanpour."

Jackson smiled at that. He understood her exactly. "Bob Woodword," he admitted.

"Right, so you get it."

"Yeah."

"Well, the Davis Fellowship is huge, you know that. And Huntzberger Publishing has always had a strong foreign affairs division. And Mitchum himself…he was short listed for a Pulitzer for his work on the Iranian hostage crisis."

"I think I read something about that," Jackson joked. Everyone had read something about that; it was Journalism 101. A lot of people thought Mitchum Huntzberger had been robbed of the prize.

"Well, anyway, you can imagine what an honor it was to get it…out of all the graduating college seniors and masters students. And when I got there and found out just how hands-on Mitch was with the program…I was star struck. He was smart, and funny, and charismatic. He could command an entire room, but he could also make you feel so incredibly special. I'll admit, I developed quite the professional crush. But I was determined that it be just that. I knew better than to get involved with my boss. Or at least I thought I did."

Jackson would be lying if he said he couldn't understand. That he didn't know what it was like to be unable to resist a person who you knew was inappropriate. He understood all too well; the lure of a person who was larger than life; what it was to get caught up in a person who could make you feel extraordinary…

"Besides, the idea that he could ever even think of me in that way?" Rory continued on. "So, when he first took a personal interest in me, I was flattered, and I wasn't about to let an opportunity to learn from a man like him pass me by. And for a while all it was was professional."

"And how did it change?"

Rory shrugged. "It happened slowly, I guess. He took me under his wing, but it was all about the work at first. Then, after maybe a month he'd start adding in some personal compliments. He started getting a little more touchy-feely; hugs, a hand on the knee, that kind of thing. And then, one day we were in his office, discussing one of my articles, and he asked me to dinner. By that point, I had feelings for him; I'd always feel a little thrill when he'd offer to work with me one on one, I'd practically glow when he gave me praise. But I also knew enough to know that it was a bad idea, so I said no. And he dropped it. Or at least he did for a while. But eventually he asked again. I said 'no' again but he was more adamant this time. He kept bringing it up, telling me how I made him feel a way he hadn't felt in so long, buying me presents…And again, this was a man who I'd looked up to forever. The idea that he could think of me that way was beyond flattering. Eventually I gave in and we started dating."

Jackson let her words sink in. It wasn't a particularly novel story. In fact, it was a tale as hold as time. Powerful man uses his power and influence to charm a smitten young girl with a case of hero worship. It was a slow and insidious process. He'd basically groomed her to be his adoring punching bag.

After a few minutes of silence, Rory started to squirm in her seat. "You don't believe me," she blurted out.

"No," Jackson protested. He felt the urge to reach out and grab her hand, squeeze it reassuringly. But he imagined that the touch of a virtual stranger wasn't what she needed just then, so he resisted said urge. "I believe you."

She looked up to meet his eye, her fingers still fidgeting in her lap. She must have been reassured by what she saw in him because he saw her shoulders relax as she let out a breathy exhale. He decided it was safe to ask another question.

"Who's idea was it to keep things quiet?"

Rory's head cocked to the side, her eyes glazing over in thought for a moment. "Mine…I think, maybe?" she hedged. "I mean, at first it was just sort of there…for both of us. No one said it, we both just knew it wasn't smart to talk about it. Eventually as we started getting a little more serious, I started to get more and more concerned about what it would do to my professional reputation if people knew. Eventually I said the unsaid…that I thought we should continue to keep things just between us, but…" she trailed off.

"But?" he prodded.

She shrugged. "In retrospect, I remember these little comments, things he'd say to remind me that people would not look kindly on a young girl sleeping her way to the top."

Jackson nodded. Making them think it was their idea…it was a powerful tool in the manipulator's toolbox.

"Eventually it got to be too much though, and I started wanting to go public. I knew it was risky, but the lying and the sneaking around was taking too much of a toll, and I thought I loved him so I figured it would all work out."

"But he wasn't so convinced, I imagine?"

"Uh uh," Rory shook her head. "He said it was for my own good, that I was the one people wouldn't take seriously, that I had too much potential to let it get overshadowed by the gossip and rumors."

For her own good? God that was patronizing. Who did he think he was; her father or her boyfriend?

"At one point he even told me I was up for a promotion. Although I think that was as much to keep me from hanging out with Logan as it was to keep me from telling people."

Logan. Now his interest was piqued. Not that it wasn't before, but truth be told, nothing Rory had told him before was all that new or surprising. But her relationship with Logan? Now that was a twist he wanted to know more about. "How so?" he asked casually, doing his best to keep his face neutral.

Rory shrugged. "Logan would join my friend Chase and me for lunch most days. I'd stop by his office or he'd come by my cubical every once in a while to chat. Mitch pointed out that people might get the wrong impression about us and that they might think I got the promotion just because I was friends with him."

So they were openly friendly around the office. Mitchum was right about one thing; some people might get the wrong impression…or the right one, Jackson still wasn't clear on that. It sounded like her friend Chase may be able to offer some elucidation in that area, though it was probably best not to speak to him unless Rory was willing to go on the record. He needed Rory to trust him, and asking questions behind her back was not the way to earn that trust.

"So what did you do?"

"I stopped talking to him," Rory admitted. "I stopped hanging out with him and," she motioned around the apartment, "Finn, and Steph, Colin…I even stopped talking to Chase at work. I spent most of my time in the office hidden away in my cubical because it was easier to hide than to answer questions that I wasn't able to answer."

"So it became just you and him," Jackson surmised.

"Yeah," Rory nodded. "That wasn't exactly new; even before that point in the relationship. Keeping secrets is isolating. Suddenly your whole world revolves around this one secret, this one relationship." Jackson felt a strange pang. What he and Finn had was different, he knew that. Finn was a good guy. And he wasn't Jackson's boss. But still, having a dirty little secret suddenly sounded a whole lot less romantic. "And that relationship becomes more and more dominant because it's the only place you can really be you; honestly and authentically you. Only there is no honest and authentic you anymore because you become so enmeshed with this other person who is literally your whole world. Without them, you'd have nothing and no one. So you can't risk losing them."

"That sounds…scary."

"It was," Rory admitted. "You're scared of losing the one person you have left. You're scared of letting people in. And for a long time, I felt so alone. I had my roommate, she's the only one who knew. And I had Chase at work, but my roommate is in med school and was hardly around, and Chase…there was always this wall up because I had to be so careful about what I said and did around him. Then, suddenly Logan came along, and I tried to keep him at a distance but he was so damn persistent…"

Jackson managed to suppress the scoff he felt rising in his throat at that statement. Of course Logan was persistent. He was a rich, white, cis, straight, charming, good looking man. He'd likely rarely if ever felt rejection in his privileged life. And along came this beautiful woman he wanted and couldn't have. That must have driven him bonkers.

Rory shrugged. "We became friends. And he introduced me to his other friends. And suddenly I wasn't alone anymore. And suddenly, my world didn't revolve around Mitchum. Which, I suppose, he didn't like very much."

"Is that when the abuse started?"

"I guess it depends on what you're defining as abuse," she admitted. "I think in some ways, I can see now that he'd always been abusive. When I started being less dependent on him, he started getting more clingy. But at the same time, when he didn't get what he wanted, he would get cold and distant. When he found out I was actively hanging out with Logan and his friends outside of work, he threw a wine glass at my head. Then he managed to convince me to stop hanging out with them, because of the promotion, and again, my world shrunk and things in the relationship seemed to get better again for a while. But I wasn't the same anymore. I couldn't go back to being all alone. So, at Christmas time, I told my mother and a friend from home. That's when he hit me for the first time. I decided I was going to end it, but when I went to break up with him, he was so apologetic, and…" Rory stopped, taking a deep breath. She'd been recounting her story with an astounding amount of restraint and aplomb, but she was finally starting to show her emotions.

Jackson gave her a minute to compose herself. "He was so apologetic," she repeated in a shaky breath. "And he asked me to marry him. He told me he didn't want any secrets anymore. That he was willing to risk telling the whole world if I was willing to take a risk on him. And it was everything I'd wanted to hear for so long that I forgot I didn't want it anymore. So I said yes."

Jackson blinked in shock. They'd been engaged. That was one piece of information that somehow had managed to escape him all this time. How had that not come up before? "You were engaged?" he articulated the question, not knowing what else to say.

"Not for long," Rory informed him. "A few hours later, Logan showed up at the apartment and caught us. "It started a huge fight between Mitchum and me and that's when…" her voice quivered uncontrollably, but still, she managed to keep from letting any tears fall.

"That's when he got really violent?" Jackson asked, finishing the sentence she couldn't finish herself.

Rory nodded. "I'm sorry," she sniffled, wiping at her nose.

"That's okay," Jackson assured her. "This is a lot. It's…it's a lot," he repeated. "We can take a break if you need."

Rory shook her head in the negatory. "I'm almost done," she informed him. "I just need to…" she took a deep inhale. "I just need to finish."

"Okay." Jackson gave her his best supportive smile. "Whenever you're ready."

She took another moment to compose herself before continuing on. "I managed to get out of the apartment before he hurt me too bad, but…but it wasn't for lack of trying on his part. I had to lock myself in the bathroom at one point. I ran out so quick I left my purse and my coat behind. The next day I was so angry. And that anger turned into determination…and stupidity. I went back there. I was just going to demand my stuff and give him back the ring, but somehow I wound up inside the apartment with him again. I don't even know how. And he…" Rory sniffled again. "I don't know I just…I think I left my body at some point. I just laid there waiting for it to be over. I honestly can't remember much."

Jackson's mirror neurons were working in over time. He could almost feel the physical blows as she described what had happened. "I'm so sorry that happened to you." She wrapped her arms around herself and nodded silently. "Did you go to the hospital?"

Rory shook her head. "I was too afraid. I made it to my friend Stephanie's. She was one of Logan's friends that I had been hanging out with. And I had her call my roommate, Paris…the med student. They tried to get me to go, but I refused. They took care of me."

"They sound like good friends."

"They are."

"So they can corroborate the…incident?"

Rory nodded.

"Is there anyone else you told at the time…" Logan clearly knew his father had been hitting her. Jackson had to wonder when he found out.

"I told Chase when I went back to work a few days later. And…" she swallowed uncomfortably. "And Logan found out too. I'd heard he'd quit and I went to his office. I needed to apologize, to explain. I didn't tell him that, not at first. But he saw a bruise on my wrist and he figured it out." So that was how it happened. If Logan really did have a savior complex as Finn said, seeing the physical evidence of her abuse must have sent him through the roof. It was no wonder he was so hell bent on getting revenge against his father.

"I told my mother eventually, but not for a couple of weeks." Jackson nodded. That was a good amount of real time corroboration. That was helpful. And he believed her. He knew every detail was the truth. But he also knew there would be plenty of people out there who would look for any excuse not to believe her. And he had to know what ammo they might have at their disposal to discredit her.

"I believe you, I want you to know that," he assured her. Rory nodded. "But I have to ask this. And you don't have to tell me if you don't want to, but know I'm only asking to protect you…"

Rory bit her lip nervously. She didn't nod or tell him to go ahead, but she also didn't tell him not to, so he took a deep breath and asked, "Was there ever anything but friendship between you and Logan?"

Rory looked down at her hands in her lap, avoiding eye contact and not answering. He knew then what the answer was. "What happened?" he asked.

Rory took a shaky breath. "We kissed a couple of times," she confessed. "The first time I didn't even know who he was, he was just this guy at a bar flirting with me. Then three days later he showed up at the paper and well, I put two and two together. It happened another time, and that's when I told him I was seeing someone…just not who. But still, him even knowing I was seeing someone at all was more than anyone else in my life other than Paris. So I guess, in a way that brought us even closer." Jackson considered this. A couple of kisses. The likelihood was, no one would ever be able to find out about that. Even Finn seemed not to know they had happened. But still, the chemistry between them was clearly strong. People would make assumptions.

Jackson decided to let it go for now. He knew the facts, he'd figure out what to do with them later. "Is there anything else you can think of that people might use to discredit you?"

Once again Rory's eyes were glued to her lap, unable to meet his gaze.

"Rory?" he prodded gently. "No judgement, I promise. I just need to know."

She squeezed her eyes shut, gathering herself "I, um…back in college I had this…thing, with my ex…my old high school boyfriend." She paused, for a moment before finally finding the strength to go on. "He was married to someone else at the time."

Yeah, that was going to be a problem.

AN: So I promise Rogan interaction in the next chapter. Rory is going to be starting her job at Skribe and they will have the opportunity to be in the same place and the same time again. From there things will start moving along at a better pace and you will see them interacting regularly again. I thank you all for being so patient with all these Roganless chapters in the mean time. But the truth is, you did this to yourselves because I was originally planning to end this story like, 10 chapters ago but YOU all demanded to see Mitchum pay for his sins. And in order to do that, I needed to set other, non-Rogan things in place. So you can all blame yourselves, lol. But really, next time, I promise for realz!