9. Logan, Colin, Finn…Take A Bow!
As soon as Rory closed the door behind her, Logan pulled her into his arms in a close embrace. Their bodies melded naturally, that if not for her brown and his blonde, one couldn't tell where Rory's head ended and Logan's began. Logan wound his fingers around Rory's hair as he dropped a series of soft kisses on Rory's half-open mouth, before succumbing to her invitation and claiming it fully. Tongues caressing, lips moving gently with the other's, quiet breaths mingling, hands restless. Rory's throat began tightening involuntarily at the rawness she felt in that moment. It was as if they were trying to tell each other the things they weren't able to when Logan left that morning; there was so much left unsaid.
Still clinging to each other, Rory murmured into Logan's neck, "Wow. You should pack your bags, leave, and come back in 10 hours more often."
"Careful what you wish for, Ace," Logan chuckled. "You're gonna get it."
"Promise?" Rory replied, her real question hanging over them. Are you back?
Logan sighed and touched his forehead to Rory's. "I went to my dad when I should have gone to the airport this morning. Told him I needed time to think about London, what I really want to do in my life." Seeing Rory's eyes widen, Logan added sardonically, "I know. It's got to be my craziest, stupidest stunt ever, trying to reason with my dad on the dawn of my reign as Huntzberger heir. Could've just played Russian roulette with him."
Rory shook her head, not hiding her disbelief. "Logan…I just never thought…I didn't expect…"
"Neither did I. 'Cause you're right, Ace. For all my bad-ass behavior, I never questioned him, never really fought it. Maybe I thought I couldn't fight it, so what's the use?" he shrugged. "Until you…" he added, tucking her hair behind her ear.
"Me?" Rory echoed. She wasn't sure whether she should feel glad or worried that she might be deepening the rift between father and son.
"Until you, I never thought that I might want another life. That there were alternatives, choices, other doors. I never felt strong enough to question where my life was going, Rory, because there was never anyone at my back if I had gone another way. Until you," Logan said quietly against Rory's forehead. "And until this morning. When we actually had to say goodbye. That's when it really hit home."
She had to smile at his earnestness. "Ah, call me Charlize, and you're my Sweet November," Rory replied, rubbing his chest. "And," she added with a meaningful look, "you can thank me properly later for showing you the light."
Rory's comment made them pause a beat.
"If there is a 'later'," Rory said out loud. "I mean, how long are you here for, Logan? Tonight? The rest of the summer? What did your dad say? Is he giving you time? Are you still going to London? And when are…"
"Okay, okay, hold the interrogation!" he chuckled, holding a finger to her lips. "Yeah, I was hoping we could go someplace else to talk about this? It's a pretty long story and I see that Luke's is hardly the place to be at should things go out of hand, what with all your, er…friendly neighbors…" Logan hedged, looking around at Luke's apartment, and buying time. Finn, Finn, Finn…
"And what about you, hm?" he asked, turning the tables on her. "You had a bit of a tete-a-tete with Mitchum, and I need to know…should I be jealous? Paranoid? Did he offer you any good coffee at least, for your trouble?"
"Believe me, I needed something…stiffer than coffee," Rory said, recalling her anxiety. "I only wanted to tell him that…"
Rory's cell phone rang piercingly in the room, jarring the two apart. "Sorry, this might be Mom," she muttered, stepping away and opening her phone.
"Hello?...Who?…Hello, Finn? Finn is that you?" Rory looked at Logan, uttered a voiceless 'Finn' as she pointed to her phone. Logan's chest heaved…in relief.
"I can't hear you…what? Oh my God, where are you? Talk louder, its so noisy there! I said, TALK LOUDER!" Logan winced, and tried his best to furrow his brows and look worried.
"What? Where?...What the hell are you doing at the…airport? AIRPORT? Finn…God, are you even sober? Ah right, silly question! Hang on a sec…I said, HANG ON!" Rory began motioning frantically to Logan that they had to leave, pulling his hand behind her.
Logan grabbed Rory's phone from her ear. "Finn! What's up, mate?" They were going slowly down the stairs, Rory holding on to Logan's waist. "No…I'm here, and you're at the airport. I suppose this is what they call a 'mix-up'," Logan chuckled.
"Why is he at the airport? Ask him!" Rory was muttering to Logan, looking cranky as they stepped into the diner. Trust Finn to pull off a prank at such an inopportune moment. Timing was never his best trait, Rory thought, remembering countless episodes when Finn caught her and Logan in… interesting situations, and the countless times she and Logan caught Finn in equally interesting situations, sans underwear. She was well beyond embarrassed, she mused. Nothing can shock her anymore, and she loved him like a brother. Much to Finn's well-dramatized disappointment of course.
"Well, lucky for you I'm still around to save your inebriated ass…oh I know you'd prefer Ms. Gilmore, but I can't have you taking advantage of her like this while I'm away…Oh I'll always know, man, I'm omnipresent, remember?" Logan continued, as Rory rolled her eyes.
"…So it's my fault you're there?...Aw mate, such a sweet gesture, it warms my heart…yeah, we'll be there. We'll call when we get there," Logan finished, shutting Rory's phone.
Rory was looking at Logan, her hands on her hips. "So?"
"So now we have to go to the airport and get Finn," Logan shrugged. "He wanted to see me off this morning, but he seems to have gotten into some trouble…" Logan looks at his watch, "…at some point in the last 11 hours. I couldn't get the whole story, but there was mention of 'airport security', 'redhead', and 'naked'. Not good." Logan then approached Rory to drop a quick kiss on her peeved mouth. "And we will talk. We do have time, I promise."
"Finn," Rory retorted, "always makes me hungry." She grabbed one—two—jelly-filled doughnuts from Luke's counter, balancing them on one hand as she took Logan's proferred hand in another. She hadn't eaten a thing all day.
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Thump-de-dum-de-dumdee-thump. Frank hummed noisily in his head, doing his best to concentrate on his driving. Thump, thump…a gasp? Barely audible, but definitely a gasp heard through the closed partition. He turned up the stereo a tad louder.
"Logan," Rory struggled to speak coherently, as Logan stretched her out on the seat. "You said we were going to…talk." She moaned softly, involuntarily, as Logan's hand inched up her thigh while nuzzling and sucking the sensitive spot under her ear.
"Correct me if I'm wrong, Ace," Logan murmured, "but this seems to be the more…urgent need. And mmm, I can't get enough of that yummy jelly doughnut," he added, kissing the remnants of sugar in her mouth. With a determined look, he pushed up the edge of Rory's sweater, revealing her stomach, so porcelain-like in its paleness and smoothness. Logan began a trail of kisses beginning from her navel, swirling his tongue around and in the small indentation, before moving upwards.
"I just really want to do this now, Rory."
Rory shut her eyes and ran her hands through Logan's blonde head, her body floating at the feel of his mouth on her torso. He didn't need to say more; she felt the same urgency, felt it at Luke's. Their day had been hellish and tense, alternately filled with sadness and uncertainty, self-ruminations and confrontations and revelations. It was too much to think about and feel in a day. Too much. They needed some relief. Just for now. Talk can come later.
Logan's mouth had finally reached Rory's chest, and she helpfully arched her back momentarily to have him unclasp her bra. Leaning on his elbow, Logan cupped one full breast with his hand, his thumb tracing patterns around and across her nipple. His other fingers busied themselves elsewhere, caressing her through her panties. He did this for what seemed to Rory an eternity, and he watched her breathing shallowly, biting her lip, shaking her head from side to side.
She tried valiantly to make him step things up. She lifted her knee, using it to stroke Logan's hardness, and which caused her legs to open a fraction. Now it was Logan who shut his eyes, moaning at the sensation of Rory's knee against him. He finally moved her underwear aside and slowly, teasingly, alternately, entering her with his fingers, then moving up to stroke her. In, up.
Rory's breathing and movements became more frantic. She reached down to jerk Logan's waistband and unbutton his pants, clasping him firmly in her hand. Just as he was tormenting her, she touched him the way she knew he liked, her hand moving up, down, over the length, the tip, the indentations. God, this feels so good. They both wanted it to end but not end.
Logan concentrated on Rory's face, keeping his mind on her, even as his body rampaged to near-breaking. She was on a different plane now, her other hand in a fist and hitting the back of the leather seat. Thump. At the right moment, Logan moved his fingers harder, more rapidly, as he dipped his head and took her breast in his mouth. And she was undone. Logan sucked hard, as if to consume her energy, her trembling. Spasmic, Rory clutched Logan's head as her fist came thumping against his back and against the seat. "Logan," she finally moaned against his hair, as her body bucked upwards.
"Have I already told you that you should pack your bags, leave, and come back in 10 hours more often?" Rory whispered, adjusting her body so as to receive Logan inside her.
Logan paused a moment, relishing the feel of Rory enveloping him, under him, around him. Wrapping her legs around his waist, Logan pressed into her and started to move. They became caught up in their rhythm, at pace with the ryhthm of the car moving with them, the ground moving underneath them, until their breaths and bodies overtook the car, ground, air.
"And when I leave and come back in 10 hours, I should always bring Frank," Logan smiled at Rory, brushing her hair away from her damp neck.
"Poor Frank," Rory shushed him, slightly embarassed. "Though there is something about the limo though, huh? So much roomier than a Porsche," she said, poking fun at their cramped attempts to make out in Logan's car.
Frank wiped the beads of sweat from his own brow with his handkerchief. So much for the hi-fi fancy-pansy stereo system in the limo. Thank God they were nearing their destination.
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"Which gate, Finn? Did you say 'E' or 'G'?" Logan spoke loudly into his cell, looking impishly at Rory, flushed and mussed, staring at the Departures board.
Chicago. Hong Kong. Amsterdam. She couldn't help scanning the list of departures for the next flight to London. The situation felt surreal…Logan was here, with her, in the airport. He had simply said his name to the men at the departure area, and like some password, they were let through. Forget metal detectors, she probably could have gone with him this morning and waved to him from the doorway of the plane. If he had wanted her to. If he had gone.
She figured—hoped—he wouldn't be leaving tonight or anytime soon…would he? She looked back at Logan on the phone with Finn. His hair was artlessly…messier. She wished they could get Finn and be done with it, so he could tell her what's going on. Right now, she felt they were in limbo, like the travelers milling around them, neither coming nor going. Waiting to leave for their ultimate destination.
"Over there, Ace," Logan jerked his head, "he's at gate G-23."
"Why? What's he doing there?" Rory asked as they weaved their way through intrepid travelers pulling their carts and baggage.
Logan shrugged. "Apparently, he had gone to the airport this morning in the hopes of surprising me and seeing me off," Logan explained, shaking his head as if to say, you just gotta love Finn.
"Probably couldn't pass up the chance to share one last toast, even at 7 in the morning, that's how much he adores ya," Rory replied.
"Then he claims to have met a mysterious redhead…"
"Mysterious. A redhead. Right."
"…At the coffee bar where he was trying to douse his hangover with a venti latte. A hangover courtesy of one Gwyneth Paltrow-wannabe with a worse British accent, if you recall," Logan teased.
"Anyway, he swore he had met his soulmate…"
"Again," Rory interrupted.
"…and he was on the verge of yet another Casanova-ish conquest…"
"Casanova-ish?"
"…when the next thing he knew," Logan continued, ignoring Rory, "He's being shaken awake by a hairy Mediterranean in the fading 5 o'clock afternoon sunlight. His wallet was gone, his venti cold and unpaid for. He would have started singing 'Leaving On A Jet Plane' for spare change, had he not discovered he still had his cell phone and a certain Rory Gilmore on speed-dial."
"I'm on Finn's speed-dial?"
"Nothing romantic in that, I assure you. With me gone, I guess you're the next best thing when he needs someone to save him from himself!" Logan laughed.
"But God," Rory uttered, her eyes widening as Logan's story progressed. "Now I can't seem to shake the image of Finn in his underwear warbling 'Leaving On A Jet Plane', thanks a lot."
Then with remorse, she added, "I didn't realize these things really do happen, that there are such…bad people out there. Poor Finn. He did sound shaken over the phone. I'm sorry I felt so annoyed with him earlier…"
Logan felt a brief pang of guilt. "Oh, I'm sure he's fine. He's gotten himself into worse scrapes, believe me."
"Oh, I believe you," Rory replied, looking pointedly at Logan and his cane.
Rory and Logan slowed as they neared G-23. A small crowd had gathered some distance away, and they seemed to be looking at something—or someone—splayed out on the floor. Rory and Logan looked at each other, then quickened their steps. Finn!
Sure enough, Finn was inexplicably spread-eagled on the floor, his eyes staring blankly up at the ceiling, as if he had been drugged and gone on to nirvana. A black portfolio lay beside his head.
"Finn?" Rory said tentatively, moving forward in the crowd to kneel beside him.
Just then, a man strode up through the crowd, wearing a ridiculous Hercule Poirot moustache and a neon-orange airport security vest. He was pulling—or rather, being pulled by—a dog. A ferocious-looking but… tiny dog. A miniature pinscher? It started yapping at Rory's ankles.
"Excuse me, miss, move away, move away!" Rory and the crowd obediently parted, as if mesmerized. "We live in dangerous times, dangerous times! These are times of terror! How often have we warned hapless travelers not to accept substances or packages from strangers? Here lying before us is yet another innocent victim. Let him be a warning!" The dog continued to yap.
Rory was as wide-eyed as the other spectators. "What's wrong with Finn?" she whispered. Slowly, she became aware of Logan shaking beside her in silent mirth. He had tears in his eyes. Rory narrowed her eyes suspiciously and stared at the airport security man. Of course. Colin!
All she could do was shake her head and cover her mouth with her hands. Oooh the…craziness of it all! The dog started sniffing around Finn's crotch, and many of those in the crowd started to laugh, catching on that a skit was being dramatized before them.
Colin bent down over Finn beside the dog, sniffing the air. Colin pulled on rubber gloves and opened Finn's zipper with obvious disdain, curling his lip in distaste. "I knew it!" he breathed dramatically. "Women's lingerie! Contraband!"
Rory gasped at the sight of red lace peeking out of Finn's pants. "Logan, stop them!" she urged, grabbing Logan's arm and pushing him forward.
"No need, Ace," Logan said loudly, looking above her head, "looks like the real authorities are here!"
Sure enough, a small group of guards came half-running through the corridor, hand-held radios in hand and firearms ominously strapped to their belts. "Oh my God! Colin, Finn!" Rory shouted, not sure whether to tell them to stay or run for their lives.
Colin and Finn decided on the latter course. Shoving his underwear back in his pants, Finn picked up the black portfolio beside him and thrust it at Rory. Rory had no choice but to catch it in her arms, reciting a mental prayer as she did that whatever it contained, it wasn't illegal. Or a bomb.
Colin and Finn then kissed her soundly—Colin on her cheek and Finn, cheekily, on her mouth. "Have a great summer," they said breathlessly, laughing, as they ran down the hall, the airport security men hot at their heels. "In omnia paratus!" echoed from the distance, the tiny dog barking after them.
The crowd dissipated, and Rory became aware of a woman's voice booming over the loudspeaker.
Attention, all passengers bound for Bangkok on Singapore Airlines flight SQ76, boarding is now in progress at gate G-23. Attention, all passengers bound for Bangkok on Singapore Airlines flight SQ76, boarding is now in progress at gate G-23.
Surreal.
"What are we doing here, Logan?" Rory asked him plaintively, confusion apparent in her voice. "What was that stupid stunt all about? NO—" she put out an arm to stop Logan from getting near her.
"Rory, if you would just—"
"My day has been awful, just awful and weird, you know?" Rory began to pace back and forth, still clutching the black envelope against her chest. "This morning, I woke up, and you left for the airport, Logan, you left!...and I wallowed and cried 'cause I wanted you to stay even though you probably have to go and I have not even wallowed long enough before hello, you're here again! I don't know how or why or until when…but fine! Happy, overjoyed, sure of course! And in between I just got it in my head that I wanted to see Mitchum…of course I had to see Mitchum about his son who at that time—I thought—had already left for London! And you know what he said? He said, 'have a great summer!' Great, like he knew something I didn't, and Colin and Finn—they said it too, 'have a great summer'? What am I, stupid? Can someone please let me in on the funny little secret? Because I am tired, so tired, and all I want to do now is crawl in a bed with a pint of Phish food, and go to sleep!" Rory looked at Logan, out of breath and not a little wild-eyed. She was so freaked.
Logan approached Rory cautiously. "Rory, I'm so sorry," he said contritely, pulling her into his arms. "Call me a butt-faced miscreant. It has been a weird day. For both of us…"
Final call for all passengers bound for Bangkok on Singapore Airlines flight SQ76, please proceed now to gate G-23. This is your final call.
"I promised you that we would talk, that we will have time. Unfortunately, that time is not now. But in a few minutes, we'll have about 10 hours to talk all you want about all this and my future, our future. But now, please just trust me and open the envelope that Finn gave you." Logan pleaded, placing her hand on the flap.
Rory looked at Logan for a few moments, then sighed tiredly. "Fine. Whatever."
Rory opened the portfolio and took out a sheaf of documents. Her red, blue, and yellow folders of the notes she had painstakingly researched and collated for their once-planned trip to Asia. She looked up at Logan, who was trying hard to look serious, but couldn't. He was practically beaming like an 8 year-old.
She sat down on the closest seat, and took out a few more things. A couple of E-tickets. Her passport. (Hers? She stared at the broad forehead and rounded face of her 18 year-old passport photo.) A printed itinerary detailing a trip to Bangkok, through to Hanoi, Beijing…and places in between. Rory suddenly felt dizzy. Logan, meanwhile, just sat quietly beside her, happy to let her digest his surprise.
"Excuse me, miss? Mister?" A flight attendant came up to them, dressed in a sleek but colorful batik outfit, her hair pulled back tight in a bun, her hazel eyes warm and smiling. "We are waiting for our last two passengers to board our plane. Are you by any chance…" she consulted a list in her hand. "Ms. Rory Gilmore and Mr. Logan Huntzberger?"
She was beautiful. And what a lovely accent. "Yes, we are," Rory answered.
"Are you coming?" she asked. "We can wait about two more minutes before we close the doors," she said discreetly, stepping back to her counter.
"Logan…I…I have no words," Rory whispered, putting her hand to his cheek and kissing him softly. "Oh wait—I do," Rory continued, and Logan winced inwardly, preparing himself for an onslaught of miscreant-type expletives.
"Thank you. I love you."
With that, Logan kissed her forehead and smiled into her eyes. "Let's go," he said.
"A 10-hour flight, huh?"
Logan nodded.
"First class?"
"Uh…not quite. I'm on a bit of a tight leash now—and yes, I will explain. Business class, though," he followed.
"Mom?"
"She knows and says to bid you, 'sayonara'."
"And did I, by any chance, pack any stuff? A toothbrush?"
"Yup. All was in Finn's able hands," Logan chuckled, as Rory rolled her eyes.
"Then let's go," Rory replied, pulling him up with her.
