AN: This came to me as something fun to do for Valentine's weekend, as you all know...my life is chaotic at best. I think in the last 10 days my kids have been at daycare/school for 4 of them, and I am frankly exhausted. So please enjoy this. This story lives in the Tis The Damn Season/Champagne Problems universe but you don't need to have read those to follow along.

Disclaimer: I do not own Gilmore Girls, or Lover by Taylor Swift

My heart's been borrowed and yours has been blue

All's well that ends well to end up with you

He looked in the mirror and tried to tame his hair, it was untamed and wild which wasn't all that surprising given that he had been in bed for the better part of the last few days, and the days before he had been bedridden had been spent trying to keep his daughter happy while she fought whatever this stupid illness was. When he saw Evelyn sick, he often wondered if his own parents had felt any pain when he had been ill as a kid. Would they have happily traded places if it meant that he or Honor felt better? He doubted that. He was sure one of the many members of the Huntzberger household staff would have though. So…maybe his parents weren't warm and fuzzy, but they sure could pick staff. He heard her voice first and then the unfamiliar sound of rustling sheets and then the distinct sound of pillows hitting the ground. "Rory?"

He spoke at the exact same time as she did, calling him from their bedroom, "Logan, babe, where are you?" She asked, a little bit of concern evident. "You're supposed to be resting," she added. As though she hadn't told him that approximately 500 times in the last 48 hours. Where had she been anyway? He remembered her saying that she was going out, but he had been in bed, dozing in and out of sleep when she had pressed the back of her hand against his forehead, mumbled something about him being 'a bit warm' and then told him she was going out and she would be back…he was sure she said why she was going out, and where, but that was lost on him now.

"Ace, I'm fine," he groaned. Logan was decidedly not fine, but he wasn't about to admit that. "What are you doing?" He watched as his wife pulled the sheets off the bed as he moved from the en-suite, giving up on his messy hair and leaned against the doorway to the bathroom, admittedly it was taking far more effort than he liked to stand there, but he wasn't sure he wanted to step into the tornado that was occurring around him. "Ace," he said again, a bit more firmly this time.

"I'm changing the sheets. You've been in this bed all day with your…germs, and you need new sheets."

"It's fine," he told her again, obviously refusing to accept that fine would never be good enough for Rory. "Where is Evie?"

Rory tossed the sheets on the floor and walked past him, her arm brushing him as she went into the en-suite and found the spare sheets that were in the linen closet. "I told you," his wife looked at him, her sparkling blue eyes holding his for a moment before she realized he didn't recall. "She is going to have a sleepover with your sister. I just took her over there. I don't want her catching whatever you have again," Rory added pointedly. Of course whatever this ailment was had now hit all members of their family. Evie had it first and then Rory had a mild version, and Logan seemed to be hit by the same strain as Evie, but unlike their toddler, Logan couldn't be pacified with freezies and Tylenol. The man had been insufferable for three days now and Rory wasn't sure if it was getting better or worse. "Can you help please?" She flung one end of the white Egyptian cotton fitted sheet in his direction and gave him a pointed glare.

"So we're alone?" Logan stood up a bit straighter as he pushed himself off door and took a few small strides until he reached his side of the bed. "God, I don't think we've been alone since," he paused to sniffle and take a deep breath while he tried to work through his brain fog to remember the last time he and his wife had actually been alone. "What was it? Your birthday?" He was sure they had no alone time at Thanksgiving or Christmas, and New Years Eve they had hosted at their upper east side brownstone.

"Bottom," Rory told him as he went to go to the top corner of the bed. It never ceased to amaze her how little Logan had caught on to doing anything domestic. She was sure she could count on one hand the amount of times he had made their bed since they got married, even when they had lived in New Haven before the move nearly a full year earlier. Sure, he had made Evie's bed when the other option was cleaning vomit off of her, but she was pretty sure if it was working hours and their housekeeper had been there, he would've delegated that particular job. "Pull it tight," she added. She could see that he was struggling, not that he would admit to being physically exhausted from his illness, she could barely get him to take any medication despite the fact that he sounded like shit, looked like shit and she could tell that he felt like shit. "Once this is done you can get back in bed, and I will make you some soup. Meredith left some of the spicy chicken soup that you like," she hoped that this might coax him into eating.

"I can come down and get it," he told her defiantly. Once the fitted sheet was secure he walked slowly to the reading chair that overlooked Central Park, the view Rory had sworn she fell in love with when they had walked through the house, the view that made her agree to the place in the first place.

"Sure," Rory shook her head and smirked. He had been in the same sweatpants for two days, only having changed once Evelyn had not so sweetly told him that he stunk, and while he had hosed himself off in the shower each morning, he had only managed to put the same grey Roots sweatpants and a black v-neck s-shirt on. "Why don't you change before you come down," Rory suggested as she smoothed the top sheet and then the comforter and duvet on the bed, silently cursing her decision to let the designer Logan had insisted on suggest so many different blankets to be on their bed. Sure it looked good, but it was a pain to make. Crisp white sheets with a thread count she couldn't even comprehend, a thin grey comforter and then the navy blue duvet cover to go on top, not to mention the plethora of throw pillows she still needed to put on. "Get changed, get in bed," Rory walked towards him and put her hand on his forehead. "Not as warm," she commented as Logan leaned his head back in hopes of getting a kiss out of her, "you're insufferable," Rory grinned as she leaned down and kissed him.

His hands immediately went to her hips, taking a firmer grip than she had expected as he pulled her towards his weakened body. "I hear," he captured her lips once more, "sex is good for your overall physical health. More sex, less sickness…something like that…"

Rory grinned as she pulled away and put her head against his, "and where did you read that? Buzzfeed or Men's Health? Oh wait, I know, Playboy?"

"Doesn't matter," Logan attempted to kiss her once more, but between his weakened state and Rory's advantage of being able to push off the chair, she was halfway across the room much faster than he had hoped. "Come on Ace, you've already been sick…just help a guy out…"

"Get dressed, get in bed. I will be right back with a tea and some soup." Logan mumbled something in response that Rory didn't quite catch as she walked down the stairs. She smiled as she passed the door to Evelyn's room, enjoying a moment of quiet where the purple walls and over the top girly decor seemed to sparkle in large part due to the light and the fact that it had been freshly cleaned, then made her way to the laundry room which in moments like this she was glad Logan had insisted they add to the third floor of the home. She put the sheets in on a sanitary cycle and flicked off all of the lights when she was done with them. She walked down two flights of stairs to reach the kitchen and contemplated making herself a coffee. It was still early. She would make Logan soup and then maybe she would make herself breakfast for dinner. It had been a while since she had just enjoyed pancakes by herself in the afternoon…something about that reminded her of when she was much younger and frequented Luke's far too often with her own mother. She opted for tea because she was already making some for Logan, so she turned the knob on the gold pot filler and let the kettle fill before turning on the burner and then walking over to the integrated Sub-Zero refrigerator to pull out the soup that had so kindly been left for her man-child of a husband. She could hear him two floors up, he was moving slowly but she knew its as best that he thought that she didn't know that. Rory couldn't help but chuckle under her breath as she saw that Meredith had left very specific instructions for heating the soup.

Microwave for 2 minutes on medium, stir, microwave for 2.5 minutes on medium, stir. If you are heating on the stove, use the medium pot, heat on medium for 10-12 minutes. This batch is too spicy for Evelyn.

She was certain that if Rory hadn't been home, Meredith would've insisted on staying just to make sure Logan survived the experience. Although, what Rory loved most about their housekeeper is that even though she would take wonderful care of Logan if Rory were gone, she also wouldn't hesitate to poke fun at him in the process. She tucked a loose hair behind her ear and flipped open the New York Times she had started reading earlier in the day, before she had decided to take Evelyn to Honor. Of course, she had felt bad taking Evelyn. It was after all Valentine's Day weekend and although Honor had insisted that it was totally fine, and Rory knew that her sister in law had a weekend nanny, she wondered if she was ruining some grand plan that Josh had put together, or more likely that Honor had selected for herself and told Josh to put together. Rory shook the thought out of her head as she stirred the soup, if Honor had a problem, she would've said so. She couldn't help but notice the quiet upstairs and she hoped that meant her husband was tucked into bed, but she knew the man better than that.

By the time the kettle had boiled and the tea had steeped, Rory could see that the soup was at a light boil and she was also disappointed to see her husband walking into the kitchen, albeit in a fresh pair of sweatpants.

"Logan," Rory ran a hand through her hair as she watched him walk to one of the navy blue barstools and the island. "I was going to bring this to you."

Logan reached for her and Rory walked towards him with the cup of tea. Sliding the navy blue Wedgwood teacup and saucer in front of him, Rory stepped within his reach and allowed him to pull her towards him, "I'm feeling better," he told her as he nuzzled his face against her stomach.

"Logan," Rory laughed, kissing the top of his head and smiling, "your soup is almost ready. You just need to relax."

"It's Valentine's Day weekend," Logan countered. "We should be at The Plaza and going to a fancy dinner and having sex all weekend…not here with you heating up Meredith's soup…"

Rory extracted herself slowly from his grasp, secretly enjoying the way his fingers felt as they brushed over her stomach when she got far enough away. She leaned down and kissed him gently, "it's your favourite soup, and it was very nice of her to leave it for you," Rory told him.

"I'm just saying that we would be having more fun at a hotel…"

"We have Evelyn, we weren't going to a hotel," she reminded him. "Unless you made top secret plans that you managed to not dangle in front of me like a carrot and somehow remember to cancel in your haze of the last couple of days…but something tells me that not only can you not keep a secret when it comes to a fun surprise, but not even you can communicate telepathically with your assistant to have plans cancelled…"

"You're no fun," Logan pouted. Rory had turned around now and returned to the stove where she carefully ladled some of the orange coloured liquid into a bowl and then returned to Logan who instantly inhaled the smell. "God this stuff is good. You aren't having any?"

"I'm making pancakes," Rory told him. He looked around the kitchen which showed no signs of pancakes and cocked his eyebrow as he took a spoonful of the soup. "When you go back up to bed," she continued as she leaned forward on her forearms and watched as he slowly ate the soup. "Helping your sinuses?"

Logan nodded as he took another spoonful, "do you think we could buy the recipe off her?"

"Even if we did," Rory grinned as she watched, appreciating that the soup did seem to be helping a bit, although that could just be because he had eaten something after the last couple of days. "It would never taste the same when we made it. It will always be best when Mer makes it."

"Because she sneaks something into it, doesn't she?" Logan inhaled, "I wonder if it's that liquid smoke stuff?"

Rory laughed, "babe, it's because she makes it. My Grandpa, he used to like this soup….anyway, when his mom, my Gran died, all he wanted was this soup, and Sookie made it and he loved it, but even though he loved it and it brought back all those memories of Gran, it still wasn't the same."

"Are you telling me that Meredith makes the soup with love?"

"Something like that," Rory chuckled.

It didn't take long for whatever second wind Logan had managed to start to dwindle and Rory had told him she would come up to lay in bed with him for a bit if he promised to go back upstairs. He did, leaving Rory to put his dishes away and tidy up, she knew there was a very good chance she would fall asleep with him despite her best efforts and good intentions, so it was best to take care of what she needed to downstairs. By the time she got upstairs with two fresh cups of tea, she found Logan sitting up in bed, his shirt had been discarded and by some miracle it had made it to the laundry basket and his clothing wasn't haphazardly tossed on the floor. "Logan," she looked at him, hating the way despite knowing he was sick, despite recovering from that same illness herself, seeing him in bed with his perfect physique was almost enough to make her lose whatever resolve she had. "You need rest."

"I need you," he countered, smiling as Rory got under the covers and snuggled up against him, "I don't have a fever, I barely have a head cold."

"Spoken like a true man," Rory rolled her eyes as she felt his arms wrap around her waist, his fingers slipping under the hem of her shirt as he rubbed circles on her stomach, slowly tracing a pattern upwards until she held him in place with her hand over her shirt, "Logan," she warned. "Rest."

"What if," he leaned down and kissed her, "we just stay in bed, and maybe," he pressed his lips against hers once more, "just kiss," he smiled when he pulled away and he could tell that Rory was giving in ever so slightly to his pressure, "snuggle, turn on a movie…"

"I will do two out of three."

"Good, there's no movies I am dying to see," Logan gave her a grin that reminded her of the boy she was caught making out with at her grandparents vow renewal all those years ago. His lips were on hers quickly and she didn't bother trying to protest as she let her lips respond to his. Even if he was sick, she could be lying if she didn't say she hadn't missed him this last week. With everyone being sick, she was certain she had slept more in Evelyn's room than she had in their room, and when she was in their bed, Logan was in with Evelyn. She had found him twice asleep in her rocking chair in the middle of the night. His hands were everywhere as he pulled her body closer to him. They were on her back, one skimming up the underside of her shirt and the other getting lost in her hair. It took a few minutes and one too many swats away from the waistband of her pants for Rory to pull away only to receive a scowl from the grown man who was breathing heavily in front of her. "No fair."

"You need to rest," Rory repeated, this time her voice was a bit more shaky and maybe she was convince herself more than she was convincing him.

Logan rolled his eyes but didn't protest as Rory rolled out of the bed. "Promise you'll sleep in here tonight?"

"Promise you'll take some Ny-Quil and go to bed?" She retorted as she walked to their closet where she changed into her pyjamas. Of course it was in many ways too early for bed, but she had a feeling that she was going to be heading to bed early in order to pacify the man child she called a husband.

"Promise," Logan nodded.

"How about admitting you feel like a dumpster?" Rory was pushing her luck and she knew it.

"Not a chance," Logan shook his head. "Hey Ace?"

"Hmm?" Rory didn't even make an attempt to look at him from the closet, but they could still hear each other clearly.

"Happy Valentine's Day…weekend…or whatever."

Rory chuckled under her breath, "happy Valentine's Day weekend, or whatever. I love you," she added. She still felt the same for him as she had when they were a couple of kids in college. Circumstances and complications had never really done away with the love that she felt for the man that she had a child with and eventually married.

"I love you too."