Houston, We Have a Problem
By Kyizi
Disclaimer: Gilmore Girls and all related items do not belong to me. Only the Story and its related original ideas and characters are mine. No copyright infringement intended.
Rating: PG-13.
Spoilers: Up to and including 5x10, 'But Not As Cute As Pushkin'.
Distribution: Please ask, the answer will likely be yes.
Pairing: Rory/Logan
Feedback: is a gift. It's nice to give.
Notes: Okay, so it's been far too long. I'm sorry. I suck. Seriously, I haven't got excuses other than Gilmore Girls has been annoying me as of late. I'm only at 6x16 and I'm ever-so-slightly ready to scream. sigh I miss Max. And season one in general.
ProwlingKitKat: This fic was written before Logan's mother had a name and I chose to call her Anna. I'd change it, but she's a very different character than she is on the show and I think it's clearer this way.xxxxx
Part Ten
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Silence. The whole pub was silent. Rory wasn't sure how her normally quiet voice had carried across the entire pub, but everyone was silent. Not even a mouse. And Doyle had fainted. He was slumped in his chair, but no one had noticed because there was so much silence.
She was sure it couldn't last, but then she'd been sure of that about an eternity ago when she'd actually said the word 'married'. Now she wasn't so sure. Hyperventilation, however, that she was sure was a distinct possibility.
"Funny, Gilmore, very funny."
It made sense to Rory that Paris would be the first to speak.
"Actually, we're serious. We're getting married."
Rory was sure it was more to do with the fact that Logan had been the one to speak rather than what he had actually said. Somehow the hysterical laughter was easier to work with.
"Guys," Logan called. Repeatedly.
Finn was crying. He was actually crying with laughter and Colin and Robert weren't far behind him. Stephanie, however, was frowning, staring at them with a curious, but determined look in her eyes. Logan appealed to her silently and she nodded. Clearly she knew something was up, but, without Logan having to say anything, she immediately understood that they wanted everyone to think they were serious.
"Finn! Colin!" She glared at them and they reigned in their laughter. "I don't think they're lying."
"Oh, of course they're not," Colin said, smacking the table in drunken amusement. "They'll be buying matching towels by this time next week."
"I can just see Rory waltzing around our apartment in it. Mate, it had better be the size of a hand towel," he said with a wink.
"Finn," Rory said softly, trying not to smile. "I think we'll be getting a place of our own. No offence, but I want him all to myself." Only the slight tightening of his hand on her shoulder gave away Logan's amusement.
"And I intend to keep you all to myself," he said, trying to keep his voice both seductive and amused.
Once again there was silence. The entire pub was listening to the conversation, a sort of strangled disbelief where people weren't even hiding it, they were blatantly staring. Rory felt much as she had during those horrific 'I went to school naked' dreams her mother had told her so much about that she'd actually began having them when she was at Chilton.
"You're kidding, right?" Finn sounded almost on the verge of panicking.
"Of course they are," Colin said, waving his hand dismissively.
"I may have questioned her sanity over the years," Paris said snidely, "but she's neither that crazy nor that stupid."
"Paris," Rory said indignantly, although she wasn't quite sure why she was so annoyed. "I'm fine and I'm getting married and there isn't anything you or anyone else can do about it!"
No, it was more like being in a fish bowl, she imagined. Or a cage. She was wondering if someone was about to poke her with a stick to get her to move. Actually, Paris looked like she was about to do just that. With a very large stick. Possibly even the entire table in front of them.
"Mate, are you crazy?" Finn asked. Rory wondered how high his eyebrows could actually go. Colin, she noticed, was beginning to look somewhat shell shocked. "I mean, she's hot…really hot, but…married? A wife is for life, not just for Christmas, Huntzberger."
"It's not Christmas."
"Exactly. I knew you weren't getting married."
"Actually, I am." Logan smirked. "In fact, I want to get in a little more practice for the wedding night, right about now." He punctuated the end of his sentence by brushing his lips gently over the curve of her neck, almost like a whisper against her skin. Her reaction was perfect, she shivered. His lips curled into a smile.
"Come on, Ace, let's go somewhere more private."
Without another word, he pulled her quickly towards the door. They spilled out onto the pavement, their laughter finally catching up with them as they ran down the street. He had her hand firmly in his as he pulled her along and neither one of them made a move to let go.
"Oh, my God, I thought Colin was about to explode!" Rory said as they slowed to a stop. She leaned over, clutching at her sides.
"I have to hand it to you Gilmore, you didn't crack."
"It was close. Really close. I can't believe I let you talk me into bringing Paris and Doyle to the table!"
"I can't believe he fainted."
"You don't think we killed him, do you?" she asked, her eyes going suddenly wide.
Logan chuckled. "No, Ace, I don't think we killed him. However, the humiliation of having to look me in the face when I next see him might."
"You will not tease him about this."
"Oh, I won't have to. Colin and Finn, when they come around, will never let him forget it. In fact, they're probably singeing his eyebrows off right about now, maybe burning 'Logan and Rory forever' into his hair."
"Not funny!" She whimpered. "And, oh, my God, Paris! I'm going to have to go back and face Paris!"
He smirked. "Actually, you're not. We're off doing naughty things to each other, remember. If Paris sees you before tomorrow, you'd better be walking funny or my reputation is in ruins, no one would believe it." She turned bright red and he smirked. Then she smacked him on the arm. Repeatedly and very painfully.
"Ace, come on, practice makes perfect." He was beginning to dodge every other attempt, but she was surprisingly agile for someone who protested so vehemently against exercise of any kind.
"I'm going to hurt you."
"You already are!" He dodged her again then held up his arms in surrender. "I give! I'm sorry."
"Oh, I know you are. I am a master at Dead Arm. Lane says it takes a few days to get full motor function back afterwards. I have no problems using you as my new target practice."
He frowned and nodded. "I hear that's what husbands are for."
"Fiancé, not husband."
He smiled. "Fiancé," he said courteously, throwing in a half bow.
"So," she asked, her eyes suddenly bright and mischievous again. "What now?"
"Practice." She moved to hit him again and he jumped away. "Rory, you're going to have to let me kiss you for this to work, you get that, right?"
She shifted on her feet, avoiding his gaze. He'd called her Rory. Used that…tone. She wasn't stupid. Of course she knew that he'd have to kiss her. Deep down, part of her had known that. Sort of. Well, she might have ignored it. Oh, God, he was right. She looked up at him wide-eyed and his grin faded a little.
"It's not too late to go back in there and tell them this was all a joke."
She didn't say anything, but, after a moment, took a step towards him.
"At this point, we haven't lost anything. Well, I might have lost a few bets against certain LDB members for actually saying the words 'married' and 'wedding' without gagging, but other than that."
She didn't say anything, so he took a step towards her.
"Rory?"
She took one more step and closed the gap between them. Looking up at him through her lashes, he could tell she was nervous. He was nervous, but he was also right.
What had possessed him to possibly think he could actually do this?
Be engaged (pretend or otherwise).
To her.
To Ace.
He really had no idea.
She took a shaky breath and he sighed. He already had a loose grip on her arms, but he had to stop himself from reacting when her small hands gently rested against his waist. He could do this…couldn't he? She was steadying herself with a deep breath. It wasn't meant to be this hard to pretend. Cautiously, he leaned towards her and gently kissed the tip of her nose.
"Little steps," he said, leaning his forehead against hers, and she regarded him curiously. Not even he was sure if he was talking about their make-believe engagement…or, perhaps, of something more.
xxxxx
TBC…
I really hope this continues okay from the previous parts. Finn, Colin, and Paris were not cooperating at all. I tried to get the right balance of humour and the beginning of something a little more. It's about time Rory and Logan realise what they're getting themselves in for, me thinks!
For those of you who read Skies Are Blue, I'm really sorry, but those muses are refusing to cooperate. I've started the next chapter about ten times, I have various sections written, but it's just nowhere near being a coherent whole. I'm hoping to get Season One back from my friend this weekend and then, hopefully, re-watching will give my Tristan muse a kick start!
