AN: Hey everyone. I just wanted to give you a heads up that if you usually rely on story alerts and are wondering where they've been, reset everyone's profiles to default to not getting email alerts. So if you want your alerts back, go to your main account page and scroll down to where it say E-mail opt in, below account settings, and click on yes. And if you didn't see it because alerts weren't work, I have also posted 2 new chapters of Missing Pages since the change and Caro1414 has posted another Best Deceptions chapter and the first chapter of a new fic. So go read and review those too...after you read and review this chapter, of course. Or, if you're annoyed with 's ficklness, you can just go check us out on AO3 where all our stuff is being cross-posted.

It was so warm and cozy. Rory's exhausted muscles felt the torpor of sleep trying to claw its way back in. She wasn't sure what time it was but whenever it was, it was too early. She didn't want to get up; she wanted to stay there forever. This was the perfect place, snug in bed where she felt safe and comfortable, the gentle weight of the comforter pressing down on her like a big hug.

But wait…it wasn't just the comforter, she realized as her brain started to adjust to the land of the living. There was an arm on top of her too. And she could feel warm breath tickling the back of her neck in a slow, even rhythm. Memories of the night before came flooding back to her. Memories of staying up late into the morning hours bonding. They must have fallen asleep in bed together.

Oh well, it wasn't like it was the first time, though it might be the last, at least for a while. Rory pried her eyes open to look at the clock. Crap! It was almost ten. The movers were going to be there any minute. "Lane!" she cried, pushing her friend's arm off of her and scuttling out of bed. "Lane. We have to get up."

"Huh?" Lane threw her arm over her eyes to shield it from the bright light of day.

"The movers are coming and I haven't even finished packing up my books."

"What do you mean?" Lane mumbled. "We packed up the bookcase last night. There are four boxes of books in the living room."

"That was just my fiction collection. I still have memoirs in my lower dresser drawer and historical non-fiction under the bed."

"I hope Logan doesn't mind his fancy penthouse being turned into a library." She removed her arm from over her eyes and threw the covers back, dragging herself out of bed. She should probably get dressed before the movers got there; which was far too soon in her estimation.

It was going to be weird, living here without her best friend. Lane had never lived alone before. She'd lived at home with her mother until she'd dropped out of Seventh Day Adventist college and moved in with her bandmates so she could focus on her music and actually attend gigs. The band had eventually broken up after she had stupidly gotten involved with the guitarist; they hadn't survived the breakup. She'd returned home for a bit after that, but her religious mother didn't approve of her passion, and she was well beyond the age of sneaking around. So, when Rory had graduated college, they'd decided to get a place together. That had been five years ago. Living alone was going to be a major adjustment. But maybe it was time. Things were moving along well with Dave, and Lane had a sneaking suspicion an engagement could be coming soon. Sure, it was quick, but it wasn't like they were strangers when they started going out. They'd been together before. A little time on her own before taking that step could be a good thing for her.

"Actually, it has a library" Rory informed her, her face scrunched up into a sheepish expression.

"Of course it does." Lane rolled her eyes.

"I mean, it's not like some Beauty and the Beast style room with floor to ceiling stacks you need a ladder to get to or anything. It's more of a library…nook."

"Sure…a library nook—that makes it much more relatable," Lane laughed, just as there came a knock on the door. The movers. Apparently, it was time to say good bye to her best friend…or at least to living with her.

"Jesus, I knew you liked to read, but this is ridiculous," Logan noted as he maneuvered yet another box labeled BOOKS into the large alcove off the living room that Rory had quaintly referred to as the 'library nook.' She was going to use it as her office while Logan had claimed the third bedroom for his so that he could have some more privacy for proprietary business discussions.

Rory pulled up the sleeve of the oversized, dark grey, off-the-shoulder sweatshirt she wore as she reached into one of the many boxes of books that were already delivered, and pulled a couple of tomes out to stick them on a shelf. Logan had insisted the movers were paid to do that, but she had wanted to make sure everything was organized to her specifications. She couldn't just have them putting things in alphabetical order...or worse, no order at all. They needed to be cross referenced by author's name, genre, and date of publication.

"I still have to go back for my historical non-fiction," she admitted. "I didn't have time to pack up under my bed."

"Man, Ace," he nodded with a look of mystified amusement on his face. "I'm impressed and partially terrified."

"Reading is fun," Paris taunted from her spot sitting at the large, mahogany desk that adorned the room, and spinning in the desk chair. She'd come over to help Rory settle in, but she had mostly relegated herself to a managerial role…and Paris led by intimidation. "You should try it sometime. You might learn something."

"Learning is overrated." Logan deadpanned.

"Sure, why get smarter when you can just skate by on your substantial inherited wealth and tons of unearned confidence."

"Unearned confidence? Really?" Logan asked pointedly. "You mean like how you confidently put out an incomplete paper when you were editor? Or how you confidently couldn't even remember any of your writer's names? Or how you confidently built a makeshift bunker in the newsroom against fire codes to avoid people?"

"Hey! Just because I have high standards, and you and the rest of the yutzes at the paper couldn't handle it, doesn't make it my fault."

"You almost burned the place down with a hot plate!" Logan threw his hands up in exasperation.

Rory rolled her eyes at the bickering duo. She knew they had a less than stellar history working together at the Yale Daily News—hell, most people who had a history with Paris had a less than stellar one—but Paris and Logan were both a huge part of her life now, and she'd hoped they could put their differences aside and at least pretend to get along. It was going to be hard getting over the idea that this was her place and not just Logan's. She didn't want to feel uncomfortable inviting her friends over.

"Hey, Logan!" Colin's voice called as he emerged from the master bedroom. "Either there's something very personal you need to tell us, or there was a mix-up with the boxes…" He made his way down the hall, twirling something dark on his index finger. Rory couldn't see what it was at first, but a sinking feeling formed in the pit of her stomach nonetheless. A feeling which was quickly validated as he got closer and she realized what he was holding. "Honestly, I'm disappointed in you Huntz. If you're going to wear woman's underwear, then at least pick something with a bit more….pizzaz. These are granny panties."

Rory's face turned beet red with humiliation. It was an unfortunate side effect of her alabaster complexion…every embarrassment, every crush, every moment of insecurity was displayed on her face. And she was feeling more than a little insecure at the moment considering that her whole life was changing….and considering that her underwear was on display for all to see. "Give those back!" she snatched the underwear from his grasp and shoved it in her pocket.

"Oh, so they are yours." Colin looked Rory up and down with a disillusioned gaze. Rory glared back in annoyance. "Such wasted potential."

"Colin, stop ogling my wife."

"Fake wife," Colin reminded him.

"Fake or not, you've got no chance, Andrew Tate." Paris snapped in defense of her friend. "Take your chauvinist, alpha male crap and go record a podcast or something." Paris may not have been much of a help in the unpacking scheme of things, but it was nice to have her there as a buffer. Things already felt so uneven with Logan and then having his idiot friends around acting like pigs...she figured they had to have some good qualities for Logan to be friends with them, but so far, she hadn't seen any. So having someone in her corner, even Paris, made her feel just a touch less uncomfortable—like she wasn't just intruding on Logan's bachelor pad.

Colin rolled his eyes at Paris, but they were spared his retort by the appearance of Finn. "Hey, look…" The Australian pranced down the hall like he was on a runway. "There are a few hidden gems in there, beneath all the frumpy stuff." Rory's mortification increased a million-fold as the Australian pulled his shoulders back, sticking out his chest which was adorned with a royal blue, sheer lace, plunge bra over his shirt.

"Oh my god." She buried her face in her hands.

"This little number is fire, Gilmore. It's a shame your hubby there will never get to see it on you. Hey…" Finn glanced down at himself. "Do you mind if I keep it? I think it really enhances my cleavage." He groped his imaginary boobs and unfortunately for Rory, she removed her hands from her face just a moment too soon.

"Umm, yeah, I don't think I'll be needing that anymore."

Finn shrugged. "One woman's trash…."

"I say ditch the cheap Target lingerie, anyway," Paris pointed out. "Go use your new hubbie's money to buy some La Perla. That stuff feels like heaven and it's way better for seducing men you're not married to."

"And if you're looking a man-you're-not-married-to's opinion on this new sexy lingerie, I'm happy to volunteer my services…"

"Colin!" Logan scolded again.

Rory let out a sigh. "Why are you friends with these bozo's again?" she asked with exasperation.

"To be fair," Logan argued, if you'd just let the mover's put your boxes in your room, this wouldn't be happening." It was true. Rory had had them bring all the bedroom stuff to the master, worried about how it would look if Rory and Logan had separate rooms. Logan had promised her it was fine, that they had signed an NDA and couldn't say anything even if they suspected. But still, Rory didn't want to have to worry about it. It was weird enough checking into hotels during their honeymoon with two separate rooms. They'd usually avoided that awkwardness by staying in villas and suites. But still, the constant fear of having to explain themselves followed her everywhere.

So, she'd had her stuff taken to the master, and then moved it to her room later, apparently leaving a box behind. That had been another point of contention…who got the master bedroom. Logan had tried to insist she take it, but she just couldn't wrap her head around it. This may be her home now, but it was still Logan's place. It was his inheritance from his father. She wouldn't feel right taking the master bedroom and all its advantages. Logan had tried to ensure her it was fine…that she probably needed the bigger closet space anyway. Plus, he went on so many business trips that he wouldn't be sleeping in it a third of the time. And having the attached bathroom would give her more privacy so she didn't have to worry about forgetting her robe and having to traverse the hall in nothing but a towel. But no matter how many salient points he made, she just felt more comfortable taking the guest bedroom.

"Well, yes, in retrospect I see the error of my ways. Now kindly have your friend remove my bra while I go make sure nothing else is left where it doesn't belong…" Rory headed off down the hall and into Logan's bedroom to grab the box of her undergarments. She bent to pick it up, but paused, a devilish intrusive thought stopping her in her tracts. Logan had just gotten to see her underwear. It was only fair that she got to see his. She tried to push the idea out of her head but she couldn't. She was his wife…she was expected to know things about him…personal things. What if the boxers or briefs conversation came up at some point and she didn't even know which one he wore? Why she would be talking to others about his underwear, she didn't know. This wasn't Julia Hargrove's sleep over party in sixth grade. And she wasn't Amanda Dornan telling them all that she'd caught her sister and her boyfriend having sex while everyone oohed and ahhed and asked what kind of underwear he wore. But still…just in case, she should at least know what her husband wore.

She put her box back down and let her eyes scan the rest of the boxes, trying to figure out which might hold the motherload. She casually pushed aside a box with her foot, looking at the one behind it. But they were all just labeled BEDROOM She finally decided to pick one at random, but as soon as she bent down to open it… "Hey." She bolted upright at the sound of Logan's voice.

"Hey." She could feel the color flooding her cheeks. She couldn't have looked more suspicious if she tried.

"We were gonna order some Chinese food for dinner when we're done here…What's your go to?"

"Umm, anything…." Rory answered. "Whatever you want."

"No, really, what do you like? There are five of us, we can all get something we like."

"Seriously," Rory insisted. "I meant anything. Mom and I order everything off the menu and eat it all for a week straight. Any anything's got to be better than Al's sweet and sour shrimp. Just pick something that doesn't have a vegetable right in the name and we're good. Also, no tofu."

"You're sure?" Logan asked again.

"I promise," she insisted.

"Alright," Logan shrugged and turned to leave but stopped halfway out the door. "They're already unpacked and in the closet…first set of drawers on the top." He glanced back at her with a knowing smirk on his face… "Not that you were wondering."

Rory glared and him with annoyance as he walked away. But once he was gone, she made her way to the closet, pulling open the designated drawer. Calvin Klein boxer briefs…apparently nothing came between him and his Calvin's.

Rory picked up the container of garlic chicken off the coffee table and scooped some onto a fancy Lenox plate. She was going to need to buy some paper plates if this was all that had to eat off of in this place. She'd be constantly terrified of breaking something. But on the bright side, she was glad to see that Logan had instinctually set the food up in the living room instead of on the dining room table. Rory hated the rigidity of eating around a formal dining room table. It was fine for special occasions, like Christmas, or Friday Night Dinners at her grandaparent's growing up. But for everyday use it just felt so…prim and proper. She wanted to be able to relax while she ate.

"Chiang Mai was my favorite, by far," Rory said as she popped a piece of chicken in her mouth. "I mean, it had everything. There were temples and history. There were the elephant sanctuaries. Outdoor markets with vendors who love to haggle. Plus, the city was just teeming with artists and writers; it made me want to write for hours. In fact, I spent an entire day sitting at a café people watching and writing in my notebook. I have so many ideas for human interest pieces I want to write."

"I'm sorry, you went to Thailand for your honeymoon and the thing you're most excited about it how much work you got done?" Finn asked with disbelief, he turned to Logan. "Logan, do something about your wife. I mean, I know you're not hitting that, but have you lost all your powers of persuasion?"

"What can I say?" Logan shrugged as he speared a dumpling with his fork. "Some people have passion and drive."

"I have passion," Finn protested. "Just ask your mother."

Logan ignored the infantile dig. He was used to it with his friends. Though he wished they'd make a bit more of an attempt to not be complete assholes around Rory. It wasn't like they would need to spend a lot of time around her, but he would prefer if he didn't have to ban them from when she took out a restraining order on them.

"A passion for hot blondes and whiskey doesn't count." Then again, he had to put up with Paris, so...

"It's redheads and scotch, actually."

"Whatever," Paris rolled her eyes. "You yahoos are all the same when it comes down to it. I bet Huntzberger's favorite part of the trip was ogling girls in bikinis on the beaches of Phuket. And making childish jokes about it being called Phuket."

"I made one joke," Logan defended. "And considering Rory made at least three that I can recall…"

Rory giggled. "Hey! Mom never would have let me live it down if I didn't make dirty jokes about the place with the one of world's dirtiest name…" In fact, Lorelai had made numerous Phuket jokes in anticipation of their trip there. Rory loved her mother, but sometimes she had the sense of humor of a 12-year-old boy, and while Rory's wit was a bit more sophisticated, she could admit she still harbored some 12-year-old boy humor deep down inside herself.

"You and your mother have the strangest relationship," Logan noted.

Rory shrugged. "She was sixteen when she had me. We practically grew up together." She'd mentioned a bit to him about growing up in Stars Hollow with her mother. They'd learned a lot about each other during the honeymoon. He'd been nervous if he was being honest. Everything with the wedding had happened so quickly they'd had no time to get to know each other. So, while his gut told him Rory was the right person to do this with, all he'd really had to go off of was his gut. He couldn't help but be nervous that they'd be stuck spending two weeks in Thailand…and two years in holy matrimony…only to find out that they didn't actually get along at all. But the conversation between then had flowed freely. Even when they were arguing, which was a lot, it had flowed.

"Anyway, Paris, I know your interest is sincere and you're really dying to know, but my favorite part of Thailand was Railay."

"Ugh," Rory rolled her eyes.

"Not a fan, Gilmore?" Colin asked. "You got something against gorgeous mountain vistas, white sand beaches, and tranquility?"

"Tranquility?" Rory asked, raising her eyebrows at the word. There was nothing tranquil about her time in Railay. "He insisted on scaling these crazy cliffs with nothing but a teeny, tiny, little rope standing between him and his untimely demise. And then he would go out on these insane rock formations and look down over a three-hundred-foot free fall. I don't know what kind of death wish the man has but I don't appreciate it." She'd spent three days with her heart in her throat thinking she was going to be stuck all alone in a foreign country tasked with the responsibility of getting Logan's mangled corpse back to The States.

"Why not?" Paris asked. "If he dies now, you get everything, not just that crappy pre-nup deal I tried to talk you out of."

"Aww, you were worried about me, Ace?" Logan asked.

"I would be worried about anyone who was one slipped grip away from impaling all their internal organ on some craggy rocks, don't flatter yourself."

"This all sounds spectacular," Colin noted, slurping down some hot and sour soup, "But I still don't see how any vacation could be that great when you didn't even get laid. How do you even relax without a little release?"

Rory and Logan gave each other a cagy look, which did not go unnoticed to any of their dining companions. "Holy, shit!" Paris cried, staring her friend down heatedly. "Tell me you didn't let that walking STI anywhere near your naked body."

"That walking STI is technically my husband…"

"Well hot damn, Huntzberger…score one with the little wife-y." Colin held out a hand for a high five but was left hanging.

"But, no…" Rory emphasized. "We didn't." A pause… "He did." She pointed at Logan.

Finn squinted one eye at him. "Is this one of those dirty riddles?"

Logan sighed at his friend obtuseness. "No riddle," he explained. "My wife is just an excellent wing woman is all."

"What did you do?" Paris asked, glaring back and forth from Rory to Logan.

"There was a pretty woman at the bar checking him out," Rory shrugged. "It was his birthday. I just told him to go for it is all."

"Sweet, Gilmore. Best wife ever," Colin decreed.

"Actually, best wife ever would have joined them," Finn added with a suggestive wiggle of his eyebrows.

"How are you not on the sex offenders registry yet?" Paris asked.

"Excellent lawyers," Finn shrugged.

Paris shook her head and turned her attention back to Rory. "You sent your husband off on your honeymoon to go get laid by a strange woman at the bar?"

Rory twirled some lo mein around her fork. "Why not? We're not actually in a romantic or sexual relationship. And to be honest, I was happy to have a relaxing night in by myself to read. Two weeks spending all your time with the same person is exhausting..." she turned to Logan. "No offense."

"Do we know how to do wedded bliss or what?" Logan chuckled.

A couple hours later, they closed the door behind Finn, who was the last to leave. It was just the two of them, alone in their shared home for the first time ever. Rory let her eyes dart awkwardly around the foyer. She didn't know why this was so awkward. They'd spent two weeks travelling together. They'd been sharing accommodations the entire time…except that night of Logan's one night stand in aptly named Bangkok…seriously, what was with so many of Thailand's city's being perfect fodder for sexual innuendos? Anyway, the point was, the specific lodgings were different, but the sharing of them should have been old news by now.

"Umm, I guess, we should…" she pointed to the mess of plates and leftover food in the living room, "Finish cleaning up."

"Right" Logan scratched at his temple. "I'll umm, get the dishes, you get the food?" he suggested. It didn't take long to finish putting everything away, which they did in awkward silence. Rory spent a few seconds searching for the cleaning supplies, not knowing where the mover's had put everything. Once the table was wiped down, there was nothing left to do but stare at one another again.

"So, uhhh, what now?" Logan asked. Rory actually felt a little better to see that he was feeling as uneasy as she was.

"I guess, we…go to our rooms?" she suggested with a shrug.

"Or we could watch a movie or something?" Why was he suggesting they watch a movie. He'd spent more time with her in the last few weeks then he had with anyone since he and the boys had spent a year on a yacht sailing around the South Pacific…well, nine months on the yacht…then it had crashed in international waters and they'd almost been brought up on war crimes. Plus, he had work to catch up on. He'd stayed on top of all the important emails he'd received while he was away, but he'd flagged a bunch of stuff to handle when he got back. He should get started on that.

"It's kind of late," Rory shrugged. "And I go back to work tomorrow. The commute's a little longer than it used to be, so, I should probably get some rest so I can get up early."

He examined her wary expression. "Are you sure you don't want to use the car service?" he asked.

"I'm sure."

"Really? Because it's not a big deal at all."

"Really."

"That's what it's there for…"

"Logan!" she replied sternly, in spite of the blanket of discomfort that was still wrapped around her. Or perhaps because of it.

"Yeah?"

"I don't want the car service. Things are weird enough at work already without special treatment. Showing up in a limo my first day back after my wedding to the CEO is not going to gain me any points." Ever since the engagement had become public knowledge, she'd felt the atmosphere at the office change. There were some whispers and a few cryptic comments. But mostly, it was just a vibe. People would go from being extra nice to extra cold. They'd ignore her until they had to deal with her and then they'd be super friendly. And she'd noticed a subtle but distinct shift in the pieces her editor was giving her. It wasn't like he suddenly started giving her the front page, above the fold stuff that the veteran writers got, but she was definitely scoring assignments that were a step above what she'd been writing about before.

"Oh," Logan's face fell. He knew that her association with him would affect things at the office, but it sucked to hear it to his face like that. "Everything okay over there? You need me to talk to someone? Crack the whip?" He was only joking, of course. He knew that nothing he could do or say would help.

She gave him a cautious smile. "Sure, that will set them straight."

"Seriously though…is it terrible?"

"No," Rory shook her head. "It's not terrible. It's just kind of the big, pink, elephant in the room. No one even really acknowledges it, but they all know it's there. I know it will probably never be the same, but I'm hoping once people realize I'm still just me, it will settle down."

"Right, well, I know I'm probably just a hinderance, but if there is anything I can do to help?"

Rory nodded. They both knew there wasn't, but she also knew he was being sincere. "Thanks."

"Right, so…I guess I'll see you in the morning?"

"Well, we do share a coffee maker now, so it's pretty much a guarantee. Good night, Logan."

"Good night, Ace."