The Fortune Cookie's Always Right


Disclaimer: I own nothing but my imagination.

Author's Note: I apologize in advance for my rusty French. My latest Netflix obsession: Freaks and Geeks. You guys remember that show? It only lasted for a year, but it freakin' rocked! My personal belief: ASP saw James Franco in this show and thought, "hey, let's create a character called Jess!" (Though to be fair, in the show, Franco's character is an ass, and Jess was at least a cultured ass.)

And the best part? In the basketball game episode, guess who plays an angry rival school member? Some dude named Matt Czuchry…."Teenage Guy #1." Meanwhile, I totally just looked him up on the IMDB, and apparently that was the first thing he ever did! Happy surprise! Sigh. And now we return to our recently scheduled update; it's hot ladies, don't say I didn't warn you!


CHAPTER 12: VOULEZ-VOUS COUCHER AVEC MOI?


"You know, Rick Steves says there's nothing like a little premarital travel to test your relationship," Logan said, leaning his seat back. It was 11:00 Eastern Time, and they were somewhere over the ocean at that point.

"Oh really," Rory said, smiling down at him.

"Oh yeah, definitely," Logan said, putting his hands behind his head.

"Well," Rory said, reclining her seat to the same level as his, "I don't think we need any more tests, do you?" Rory said.

"Oh, I agree," Logan said, opening one arm for her. She leaned her head on his shoulder as he closed his arm around her. "Now we sleep."

"But I'm not sleepy," Rory said. "Tell me a story."

"A story, Ace?" Logan whined. "Ok. Once upon a time, there was a girl named Rory, and she pestered her boyfriend to tell her a story, but instead, he decided to tickle her, and she learned never to ask again. The end."

"Ok, there were many things wrong with that story," Rory said. "First of all, you're not my B-word. Second of all, you tickle me and I'm switching seats with the snorer. New story."

"Ok, well I'm too tired to think up a story. Although I could tell you a joke."

"A joke?" Rory asked.

"Yeah. So Gore Vidal, Gabriel Garcia Marquez, and Norman Mailer all walk into a bar," Logan said.

"Ok, all of a sudden I'm really sleepy," Rory interrupted.

"Really," Logan said skeptically.

"Oh yeah!" Rory said, stretching and giving a huge fake yawn. "Sleepy, so sleepy," she said, closing her eyes and snuggling into him.

"Little faker," Logan said, grinning. He closed his eyes and leaned his head on Rory's.

"Night, Ace," he said.

"Goodnight," Rory said.


"So, what do you want to do first? This weekend, the city's all yours," Logan said as they got in an airport cab.

"Coffee. First, there must be coffee, and lots of it," Rory said.

"Well, see, that's the lovely thing about Paris, Ace; there's a café on every corner!" Logan said. "You've been here before, right?"

"Yeah, twice; my mom and I went backpacking across Europe after my high school graduation, and I went with my grandma this past summer."

Logan mustered up his best cheesy French accent. "Ah, so you know her well," he said, referring to Paris.

"Yes, a whole city full of Michels. It was delightful," Rory said wryly.

"The guy at the inn, right?" Logan clarified.

"Yes, and snooty as all get out. Still, I liked practicing my high school French, and I liked it better with my mom because we seriously mixed with the locals. Grandma only wanted to go to places where she could speak English."

"Well then, we'll just have to blend in with the local crowd. How's that high school French of yours?" Logan asked.

"Très magnifique!" Rory quipped.

"Bien, bien," Logan said.


"Oh, I needed that," Rory said as they got up and walked away from the sidewalk café.

"The coffee or the three croissants you just inhaled?" Logan asked.

Rory playfully hit his arm. "Both!"

Logan laughed and casually reached for her hand. She made no comment, instead just intertwining their fingers. Logan's eyes lit up with an inner smile. Apparently the whole no-kissing thing had no restrictions on other shows of physical affection.

"How do you feel about books?" Logan asked randomly.

"Generally? I'm for them," Rory said, giving him a smile, swinging their hands as they walked down the sidewalk.

"Well that's good to hear," Logan said wryly.

"Yeah, especially those choose-your-own-adventure books. Did you ever read those when you were a kid?" Rory asked.

"Yeah, but I cheated. Whenever I died or didn't like the outcome, I'd go back to the decision page and go the other way," Logan said.

"I can't believe you cheated!" Rory said.

"Well why the hell not? You read those books for enjoyment, and that's how I enjoyed them. Come on, are you saying you never cheated in those books?" Logan said.

"Maybe…but only once or twice!" Rory said defensively.

"Mm hmm," Logan said, disbelievingly.

"Anyway, what's with the book question?" Rory said, trying to change the direction of their conversation.

"Well, bookstores in this city tend to be rather expensive, but I know a place where you can get a bargain," Logan said.

"Oh really?" Rory said, intrigued.

"Yeah," Logan said as they rounded the corner. "And here we are: les bouquinistes."

Rory looked in amazement at the rows of bookstalls, leaning right next to the Seine River. "Oh my God, it's like Mecca!" she said, rushing to the first stall and immediately perusing the stacks.


Two hours later, Rory had an armload of books. She looked around and suddenly realized that Logan was no longer next to her. She immediately felt guilty; she remembered dragging Dean to these things, and he would patiently wait while she looked and looked, even though she knew he was miserable. She didn't want to make Logan feel miserable as well.

"Logan!" she called. She was pretty much done looking, and could always come back tomorrow. "Logan!" she called again, going to the next stall. She grinned in amazement at the sight. There was Logan haggling with the Frenchman running the stall. His pile of books was larger than Rory's.

"There you are," she said, not being able to help the huge smile on her face.

"I'm so sorry, Ace! I just got carried away," Logan apologized.

"No apologies necessary! I'm not exactly done looking myself," Rory said guiltily.

"Here, add yours to my pile and keep looking," Logan said, taking the books from her arms.

"No, that's ok, I can get them," Rory said, offering to pay for her own books.

"Ace," Logan said firmly, "can you argue in French?"

"Um… not exactly," Rory said.

"Well then just let me buy you some books, ok?" Logan said easily. "Now go, pick some more."

Rory reluctantly let him add hers to his pile and turned around to go get some more. She stopped and turned back around to face him.

"What?" he said.

Rory said nothing, but stood on her tiptoes and gave him a quick kiss on the cheek. "Thanks," she said in a small voice. She darted around to the next stall. Logan stared after her for a moment until the bookseller broke his reverie.

"Monsieur? Monsieur?"

Logan snapped out of it and began to negotiate with greater gusto.


"Oh, I am so stuffed," Rory moaned, clutching her stomach. They had just finished a fabulous lunch at the Restaurant D'Eric Frechon.

"Well after four courses plus most of my dessert, it's no wonder," Logan chuckled.

"Are you laughing at my pain?" Rory warned.

"Never. I know better," Logan teased with a wink. Rory listlessly lifted an arm and dropped it back down.

"What was that?" Logan said with a little choke of laughter.

"That was me hitting you, only I don't have the energy," Rory said.

"Hm; methinks the lady doth have jet lag," Logan said.

"We're in Paris. You can't be Shakespearean in Paris," Rory said.

"Is that your way of saying you wanna hit the Eurostar and country hop?" Logan said.

"No!" Rory said.

"Aw, come on Ace, why not?" Logan cajoled.

"Well for one, that would require getting up, which is something I'm sooo not prepared to do right now. It must be the wine going to my head," Rory said airily.

"Funny, I thought it would be all the chocolate," Logan teased.

"Don't make me hit you again," Rory threatened, trying to lift her hand again.

"Yeah, I think I'll survive," Logan said. "Come on, you need a nap."

"A nap? Where am I gonna take a nap? I'm not sleeping on the street. Paris may be beautiful, but it's also very dirty," Rory said.

"Hotel, Ace. You remember what those are?" Logan said, standing up and holding out a hand to help her up.

"Yes," Rory said grumpily, accepting his hand and reluctantly standing up. "Although you may have to carry me there."

"Oh yeah?" Logan said, an impish gleam in his eye.

"No! I take it back," Rory said quickly.

"Why?" Logan asked.

"Because last time you said you'd carry me, it was not the kind of carrying I wanted," Rory explained.

"Ok, no carrying unless absolutely necessary. Come on," Logan said, putting his arm around her shoulders as they walked out of the restaurant. She slipped her arm around his waist and leaned her head on his shoulder.

"Sleepy, so sleepy…" she said.

Logan rolled his eyes. "Come on, I know just the place." He hailed a taxi and gave the driver an address as they slipped into the backseat.

"Where are we going?" Rory said, yawning.

"This absolutely amazing place. You're going to love it," Logan assured her. He thought for a moment, then frowned. "Oh yeah…there's a catch, though," Logan said.

"A catch? Yeah, I'm not liking the sound of that," Rory said warily.

"Well, the thing is, I've stayed there a couple of times with the guys," Logan started.

"Uh huh? I'm already concerned," Rory said wryly.

"No, hear me out," Logan said with a smile. "See, it's the best place we've ever stayed. The owners are incredible, the rooms are comfortable, and it's close to everything…it's just the best place."

"Mm hm?" Rory said, waiting for the catch.

"Ok, so the thing is, one time we came with a couple of LDB people, which included girls," Logan said.

"Ok, well we're not going to stay any room where you… you know… with anyone," Rory said with a look.

"No! No, that is so not where this is going," Logan said. "Well, it sort of is, but not in the way you think."

"Ok, the point, Logan?" Rory said with half a smile.

"Well, the point is, they wouldn't let us stay here."

"What?" Rory asked, confused.

"They have this totally extreme moral code that forbids guys and girls to stay together in the same room unless…"

"Unless what?" Rory asked.

"Unless they're married," Logan finished.

"Oh, that's all," Rory said flippantly.

"Yeah…but I have an idea," Logan said, a mischievous gleam in his eye. "Chauffeur, vous pouvez arrêter ici." He handed the driver some money as they pulled up next to the curb. "Come on, Ace." He grabbed her hand and pulled her out of the cab and down the street.

"Where are we going?" Rory asked fruitlessly.


They stopped in front of a store. "Wait here," Logan said.

"Ok, but I don't think there's a justice of the peace behind the counter of your local tobacco store!" Rory called in after him. She folded her arms and rocked back and forth on her heels.

Logan came out with a small bag.

"Aw, honey, a pack of smokes, for me? You shouldn't have," Rory cooed.

"Very funny," Logan said. "Check it out." He pulled out a cigar and slipped off the ring, holding it up for Rory to see.

"Clever solution," Rory said appreciatively, taking the ring and slipping it on her finger. "A little roomy," she said, holding out her hand and assessing it from a distance. "And you don't think the design will give it away?" she asked innocently.

"Ok, ok, I'll think of something better," Logan said, gesturing for her to give back the ring.

Rory grinned and let it fall off her finger. She placed it in his hand. "It was a cute idea, though."

"Thanks," he said wryly. "So what do you say we go buy you some pajamas?"

"Pajamas? Why?" Rory asked.

"Well, this hotel doesn't provide any, and unless you wanna sleep in your birthday suit, which by the way I'm totally ok with…" Logan said suggestively.

Rory held up a hand. "No no, that's just fine. Let's go back to that department store down the street."

"Alright, alright," Logan consented. He offered his arm and Rory took it, walking down the street.


"Here," Logan said, holding out a credit card. They stood inside the department store at the bottom of the elevator.

"What's this for?" Rory said, looking at it.

"Well," Logan shrugged, "I just figured since I dragged you all the way to Paris, I might as well buy you some pajamas."

"You don't have to," Rory said.

"I insist. Come on, just take it," Logan said.

"Ok…" Rory said slowly. She slipped it into her purse.

"Ok, so you go upstairs to the ladies' section, and I'm going to the men's," Logan said.

"What are you gonna buy?" Rory said, one eyebrow raised.

"Hey, as much as I love roughing it, I think I'd be more comfortable if I had a fresh pair of underwear for tomorrow," Logan said. "That is, unless you object. I mean, I could always go commando…"

"No!" Rory said quickly. Logan laughed. "No, I'm going, I'll meet you back down here," she said.


Rory stepped off the escalator and regarded the lingerie section. She immediately went toward the pajama sets, flipping through the cotton, then the silk sections. She sighed, not sure which to choose. She briefly glanced at the racier section and gave a short snort of laughter. She could just imagine Logan's face if she stepped out of the bathroom in one of those! Rory looked around, as if someone were watching her, and walked over to a more Victoria's Secret kind of rack. She flipped through the nighties, a wicked grin on her face.


Logan watched Rory go up the escalator before heading to the men's section. As he walked, he passed by the perfume, then the jewelry sections. He nearly made it before stopping and walking backwards, taking a second look at the jewelry counter.

"Puis-je vous aider?" asked the woman behind the counter.

"En fait, vous pouvez," Logan said, an idea slowly forming in his head.


"So, got some clean drawers?" Rory teased, coming up behind Logan as he was making his purchase. He slid the smaller bag into his pocket without her seeing.

"Yes, I got a couple of pairs, plus a few other things I needed," Logan said, handing one of his credit cards to the man on the other side of the counter. "Did you get something comfortable?" he asked.

"Oh yeah," Rory said.

"Good, good," Logan said. "Ready to go?"

"Absolutely," Rory said. "Although I feel like Maurice Chevalier should be singing in the background," Rory said.

"How's that?" Logan asked.

"I just feel very Gigi at the moment… the movie, not the sister," Rory clarified.

"Ah. Well, I have to say I agree with my man Maurice… thank heaven for little girls. They do grow up in the most delightful way!" Logan said with a smirk. They left the department store and Logan led her to the hotel.

"So I got to thinking… you were right about that whole cigar ring thing," Logan said casually as they approached the hotel.

"Well, it was a sweet gesture, but I'm sure we can think of something," Rory said, yawning. She wound her arm around his and leaned her head on his shoulder as they walked. "Although I am way beyond ready for that nap, so maybe they'll do."

'Maybe…" Logan said, stopping in front of the hotel. "Hey; if I asked, would you wear something special tonight?" Logan said.

Rory raised one eyebrow. "Well now, that all depends," she responded playfully. "What did you have in mind?"

He pulled the small shopping bag out of his pocket and opened up a box. "How about this?"

"Oh my…" Rory said, speechless.

"Well, we want it to look real, now, don't we?" Logan said, watching Rory's face carefully. She slowly looked from the box to his face.

"Logan, they're… they're too much!" she said, gently touching the rings resting in the box.

"Well, what can I say, I have an eye for jewelry to go along with that eye for dress sizes," he said in a slightly teasing voice. "Go ahead," he said nervously. "Make sure they fit." He was suddenly feeling deeper feelings than he meant to feel. After all, this was just supposed to be a quick fix solution so they could stay at his favorite hotel. It was turning into a real Tom Hanks/Meg Ryan moment, and he wasn't sure he was comfortable with that. It was one thing to pour his energy into getting her back; that was a challenge, it was fun, and being with Rory was fun. But this… this was rapidly turning into more.

Rory was rooted to the spot. She was frozen. She didn't know what to say or do…basically, she didn't know how to handle the situation.

"Here," he said softly. He took the rings out of the box and slid them onto her finger. "Perfect fit." Well damn. This was definitely getting more serious by the minute.

Rory looked down at her left hand where a set of rings now resided. On the base was a simple platinum wedding band, and sitting above it was an elaborate diamond engagement ring, with one round-cut diamond in the center and smaller diamonds worked into the band design. Her heart began to beat a little faster, and she struggled to keep her cool.

"Perfect," Rory repeated. She blinked and tried to clear her head. "Um… don't you need one?" she asked, trying to go back to being practical Rory.

"Yeah, I've got one right here," Logan said, pulling out the other box.

"Well, in keeping with tradition," Rory said with a small smile. She opened the box and slipped the matching platinum band on Logan's finger.

Logan smiled and dropped the boxes back into the shopping bag and shoved it back into his pocket.

"So…" Logan said, his usual smugness tinged with anxiety. "Shall we?"

"Let's," Rory said, just as nervous as they stepped into the hotel lobby.


Logan summoned his usual charm and confidence and approached the desk. "Bonjour madame, comment ça va?"

"Comme ci, comme ça. C'est aujourd'hui froid," the middle-aged woman replied.

"Ah, mais c'est l'hiver!" Logan pointed out.

"Cela est vrai," she laughed. "Et vous, comment ça va?" she asked, gesturing to the pair.

"Ah, nous sommes dans l'amour!" Logan said playfully, hugging Rory. She offered a sweet smile.

"Bien, bien! Que peux-je faire pour vous?" she asked.

"Nous aimerions une pièce, s'il vous plaît," Logan requested, flashing the famous Huntzberger smile.

"Bien, j'ai seulement la suite de lune de miel disponible," she said. Rory's ears perked – she frantically translated in her head.

"Cela serait parfait. Merci," Logan said.

"Et ici la clef," she said, handing over the key and getting the paperwork ready.

"Merci beaucoup," Logan said. It suddenly clicked in Rory's head what the woman had said: the only room available was the honeymoon suite.


"So," Logan said, slipping back into his much safer casual mode, "I say we take a quick nap, then hit a museum before dinner." He didn't know how to handle these deeper feelings, so he tried to think only on the surface. He handed her the bag from the department store. "Here's your bag, you can change into your pj's in the bathroom if you want. I think I'm just gonna sleep in my clothes since it's only an hour or two," he said, kicking off his shoes.

Rory took her bag from Logan. She stood there awkwardly for a moment.

"What?" Logan asked, flopping down on the left side of the bed.

"Nothing…" Rory said, playing with the handle of her bag. "Um, so are we gonna wear these the whole trip?" Rory asked.

Logan scrutinized her. "Well, you don't have to if you don't want to," he said, not sure which way he wanted her to respond.

"I mean… it just might help keep up the pretense, you know," she said quickly. "And I assume they're really expensive, so I don't wanna lose them, and…um… are we gonna wear them?" she finished weakly.

Logan smiled. "You know what, I think we should. You know, so we don't lose them, like you said."

"Right," Rory said with a quick nod. She put her hands on her hips and surveyed the room.

"Are you gonna change?" Logan said, regarding her from the giant bed.

"Um…" Rory thought about what was in her bag. With the weird new energy in the room, she didn't know that she was quite prepared to put that on. "You know what, I think I'll just take a nap in my clothes too." She slipped off her shoes and gingerly laid down on the bed.

"Oh my God," she said, sinking down into the plush comforter. "I want to make love to these sheets," she said in appreciation.

"How about in them?" Logan said with a wink.

Rory stared at the ceiling and emitted a nervous laugh. "Behave," she said half-heartedly, gently smacking his arm. When she laid her arm back down on the bed, it was touching Logan's. She held her breath as he slowly intertwined their fingers and began to play with the rings that now adorned her finger. Heaven help her…she might just be falling for him, which was more dangerous than falling for any other guy in her life.


An hour later, Rory was still staring at the ceiling. For all her talk about jet lag and being tired, she was suddenly very awake and very aware of Logan's presence. She hadn't moved at all the entire time, still lying on top of the covers with her hand in Logan's.

Logan's eyes were closed, but he never fell asleep. He knew Rory didn't either, because she didn't move at all, and she usually squirmed when she fell asleep. This was just getting freaking weird. He cursed himself for suggesting the ring idea. Why couldn't they have just stayed at some other hotel? He knew the answer to that: he wanted to show Rory one of his favorite places in the whole word, to share it with her. The fake couple bit was originally just a roadblock to get past, but now it had turned into this huge thing. He didn't know that it would affect Rory so much, and he certainly didn't expect to feel the way he felt about wearing a ring himself. He expected to either take it with a grain of salt or get really freaked out and commitment-phobic. He never expected to be okay with an outward sign of commitment, even if it was just for show.

He heard Rory sigh and chose that moment to yawn loudly, pretending to wake up. He stretched and rubbed his face and sat up on his elbows and looked at Rory.

"Hi," he said softly.

"Hi," she replied, looking up at him.

"Have a good nap?" he asked.

"Um…sort of. I guess I wasn't as sleepy as I thought I was," she said, shrugging on the bed.

Logan raised his eyebrows. "Are you kidding me? Miss 'sleepy, so sleepy'?"

"Yeah…weird," Rory said, trying to laugh it off. There was a long awkward pause.

"So… ready to museum-hop?" Logan asked.

"Sure, let's go," Rory said. She stood up and smoothed her dress. Logan held the door open for her as they made their way back to the lobby. They passed the check-in counter.

"Sortez-vous sur la ville?" the woman asked from behind the counter.

"Oui, nous allons aux musées," Logan said, pausing to answer her. Rory pulled her coat tighter in anticipation of the cold.

"Bon. Amusez-vous, Monsieur Huntzberger," she said.

"Merci. Au revoir," Logan said.

"Au revoir. Au revoir, Madame Huntzberger," she said to Rory.

Rory was fiddling with her purse and looked up when Logan nudged her. "Oh! Um, au revoir!"

They left the hotel and Logan held out his arm to hail a cab. "Blowing our cover already, Ace?" he said with a smirk.

Rory rolled her eyes. "Ferme ta bouche," she said loftily. Logan just laughed.


"So, two giant meals in one day. I am just now beginning to appreciate how much a Gilmore girl can eat," Logan said, setting his napkin on the table.

"Well, we did a lot of walking today. We just did two museums, Logan. Two!" Rory said, holding up her fingers.

"I can count, Ace," Logan said wryly. There was another long pause. Ever since their nap, the entire rest of the afternoon and the evening had been filled with palpable sexual tension. They hadn't touched each other except by accident, and the few times they did touch accidentally, it was electric, causing them to jump away.

"So…" Logan said.

"So," Rory said, taking another sip of coffee.

"Ready to go back to the room?" Logan asked tentatively.

"Suite is more like it," Rory said, referring to the lush honeymoon suite.

"Yeah," Logan laughed nervously. "Well… we do have lots of books to read," he said with a smirk.

Rory grinned as she remembered the mountain of books they purchased earlier in the day. Her grin faded away as she considered the prospect of returning to the hotel with Logan. There had been a weird energy between them ever since they put on those rings. She had butterflies in her stomach, and she was pretty sure that they were not caffeine-induced.

"Um, how about we go for a drink?" she blurted out.

"A drink?" Logan said, one eyebrow raised.

Rory felt ridiculous. She knew he knew that she was not usually the one who suggested going out for a drink. Nine times out of ten the suggestion came from Finn. In reality, she wanted to delay dealing with… well, with whatever was going on between them.

"Yeah, you know, a bar or club or something. I mean, this is Paris, is it not? There's always something to do," she said.

Logan thought for a moment. "Well, there is this one club you might like. And they'll probably let us in since Finn isn't with us," he mused.

"Nice," Rory said dryly.


"You like?" Logan asked, gesturing around him. The club was loud, and Rory had to lean closer to answer him.

"Yeah, it's fun," Rory said, mostly grateful for the amount of commotion. It was pleasantly distracting. "And this drink is amazing," she said, lifting her glass and taking a sip. "What is it?"

"A French Kiss," Logan said with a smirk.

Rory grinned and shook her head. "Of course," she said, mostly to herself. She finished the last of her drink. "Um, I'm gonna go to the restroom. Be right back," she said, slipping out of her seat.

"Ok," Logan said, watching her go. He felt ridiculous; what was up with this weird feeling in his stomach? Must have been the escargot.


Rory emerged from the ladies' room and began to fight her way through the crowd back to the bar. She almost made it before a man slipped his arms around her waist and began to bump and grind against her.

"Voulez-vous danser?" he asked.

"No!" Rory said in surprise, trying to pull away.

"Vous êtes belle," he persisted.

Rory was trapped, and looked around wildly, her eyes connecting with Logan's. She pulled on one ear, mimicking her 'rescue-me' gesture from the Yale Alumni Party last semester.

Over at the bar, Logan couldn't help but grin. Rory did need rescuing, but it was ironic that she used the same signal from the night that he pretended to be her boyfriend. Now he was going to pretend to be something else.

"Je suis… ugh, what's the word for married? J'ai un homme, um… crap, that's not right," Rory said, trying to communicate.

"Excusez-moi, mais j'aimerais danser avec ma femme," Logan said, a hint of steel in his voice.

"Votre femme?" the man said in surprise. Rory held up her left hand. "Désolé," he said, excusing himself and finding another conquest.

"Thank you," Rory said gratefully.

"No problem," Logan said. Someone bumped into Rory from behind, catapulting her into Logan's arms. "Hey… you ok?" he said, catching her around the waist.

"Yeah," she said, though she was not entirely sure that was the case. Her hands were on his shoulders, and she started to pull away, but they just got pushed closer by the crowd. Movement was so tight on the dance floor that they had no choice but to begin to dance to the rhythm of the crowd. They exchanged no words as they started to dance, full bodies touching. Rory felt like her nerve endings were sizzling.

Logan could hardly stand it. He needed a cold shower, and he needed it now. The proximity was too much to bear, and he didn't know how much longer he could last without acting on all these intense feelings. His hands on her hips as she swayed seductively (albeit unknowingly) kept wanting to drift to a part of her body that he was sure would guarantee a hand slap.

Rory could feel a sheen of sweat starting to form on her body. She made the mistake of looking into Logan's eyes, and was scared at the intensity she found in them. She used all her willpower to break that gaze, and turned her head slightly. She squeezed her eyes shut and tried to ignore the sensations he evoked when one of his hands moved from her hip to travel up her side and across her back, returning to her hip.

Logan moaned as Rory made one particular movement that threatened to get him a little… excited. He needed to do something, one way or another to get out of this painful situation. "Rory," he breathed into her ear.

Rory cringed as a chill ran through her body. "Yeah?"

"You know how you said 'we'll know when we know'?" he said, not being able to help starting to nibble on her ear.

"Mm-hm?" Rory said, biting her lower lip to keep from crying out.

"Well, please tell me you 'know,' because from where I'm standing, I sure as hell know," he said, pulling away enough to look at her.

Rory looked at him and replied without hesitation. "Oh, we know!"

"Thank God," Logan said, capturing her lips in a passionate kiss. He kissed her with a fervor that he never knew he possessed. Perhaps it was the fact that she made him wait for it, or maybe it was the whole fake-marriage thing, or maybe it was just something to do with being in Paris and the crazy energy of the city, but right now the only thing that filled his mind was Rory.

Rory kissed him back with equal ardor. They always had a powerful physical attraction in the past, but something was different this time. This time, it wasn't just a pleasant physical sensation, but rather a connection, and one that she most definitely did not want to break. Her hands went to his hair as they kissed, the background noise fading away. Logan's hands roamed her body, alternately cupping her face and smoothing down her back, pulling her as close as humanly possible.

"Rory," Logan said, kissing down her neck.

"Oh God," she said automatically, responding to his ministrations.

"Are you ready to go?" he asked between kisses.

"Um," she said hazily, struggling to focus as he moved back to capture her lips.

"Because," he said, kissing her cheek, "we could always hang out here for awhile." He nibbled on her ear. "That is," he said, kissing down her neck, "if you have the energy." He returned to her lips, murmuring against them. "Because it seems to me," kiss, "that you look a little," kiss, "tired," kiss.

"Oh yeah," Rory said. "I'm sleepy, so sleepy," she said mischievously, giving him big pouty eyes. "Voulez-vous coucher avec moi?" she asked innocently.

"You have no idea how badly," Logan said, brushing the hair off her face and giving her another deep kiss before pulling away.

Logan's face took on a familiar smirk. "Let's go!" he said, giving her one final kiss before twirling her around and guiding her through the crowd and into the night air.


Ah, l'amour. Ok, so they still have tomorrow in Paris; our little European jaunt isn't over. And my goodness, what developments! And for those of you who think that there's nowhere to go from here, oh ho ho, just you wait! Now review, my dears, so I can feel the love and feed you the next chapter. Because it is going to be delicious!