"I see the problem," the repairman said as he inspected the radiator. "I can fix this in a jiffy…" Rory had arrived back to her dorm two days before the end of Christmas break. She'd wanted a little time to settle in before classes started and get a start on some of the reading for her new courses. But it was hard to concentrate on game theory when it was 50 degrees in the room. Luckily the maintenance department was able to get someone there pretty quickly.
"Great," she replied thankfully, crossing her arms and pulling her sweater more tightly around her. She was freezing. She paced back and force across the room, partly for warmth and partly because it was hard to relax when someone else was working.
A knock interrupted the clanking of tools. Rory furrowed her brow, wondering who could be there. The campus was practically empty still. She glanced through the peephole and squealed, throwing the door open when she saw who was on the other side.
"Oh my god, what are you doing here?" she cried with glee as she wrapped her arms around her boyfriend's neck. She hadn't seen him since he left for Aspen after their weekend at Mohegan Sun.
"Oh, well I was actually here to see Paris," he replied, shaking off her embrace. "We're having a secret affair," Logan informed her straight faced.
Rory rolled her eyes. "You know what I meant. You're not supposed to be here until tomorrow. I thought your parents summoned you home for some forced family time."
Logan scoffed, leaning back against the door frame. "My parents tire of me almost as quickly as I do of them. Mitchum gave me his patented pre-term pep talk about how I'd better get my act together since I'm going to be taking over the company. And Mom was happy to see me for about an hour before her Xanax and white wine cocktail took away her ability to have any emotions at all."
A frown took over Rory's face. "Logan…" she started sympathetically.
"Hey!" he cut her off, leaning in for a kiss. "I'm not complaining. It just means I get to spend that much more time with you. Of course, imagine my surprise to find you here with another man." He nodded to the white-haired janitor leaning over the radiator, allen wrench in hand.
"You caught me," she answered with a smile, ushering Logan all the way into the room. She glanced over her shoulder to see if the repairman was listening, then added in a whisper, "I just can't resist a man who knows how to handle his tools."
Logan's eyebrows quirked upward at the innuendo, impressed with his girlfriend's gumption. He'd play along. "Hey, I've been handling my own tool for the last two weeks," he said. "It's definitely time to let you have a turn."
"Shhhh!" she admonished as her cheeks flamed red and she buried her face into the soft, buttery material of his leather jacket. He wasn't even trying to keep his voice down. The repairman kept working, but she was sure he'd heard and was just pretending to be oblivious.
"Hey, you started it," Logan laughed.
"We're being rude."
"You're right," he agreed. "Hey there!" he turned to address the worker directly. "Logan Huntzberger," he held out his hand in greeting. "Thanks for keeping my girl warm."
"Carl," he introduced, standing up to take Logan's hand. "Just doing my job."
"Well thank you for working during the break," Rory interjected, coming up next to Logan.
"Are you kidding?" Carl asked, turning back to his work. "I love the campus when it's kinda empty like this, you know? All quiet. The snow is pretty too."
"Yeah, very pretty," Rory agreed, turning to look out the window at the fluffy flakes falling from the sky. Carl kept talking but suddenly Rory couldn't hear a word of it. All her focus was on the site outside of her window.
"Ace? You okay?" she faintly heard Logan ask. "Wait…is that…"
Oh crap! she grabbed Logan's hand, pulling him away from the window.
"It is! That was totally Paris and…" Rory elbowed him in the side to get him to stop talking. She knew exactly who Paris had just been kissing outside their dorm. And she knew it wasn't the first time. She'd seen them kiss once before-on her way home from the Harvard-Yale game-though she'd tried with all her might to seer the previous memory out of her brain. She didn't need that imagery in her mind, and she sure as hell didn't need the drama that would come from knowing her roommate was having an affair with a 60-year-old professor. Plus, she liked Paris' boyfriend, Jamie. He was a good guy who appreciated Paris for who she was…quirks and all. Rory didn't want any part of what ever warped relationship Paris was having with Professor Asher Fleming.
She pushed her boyfriend down onto the couch and sat next to him, just as the door opened and Paris walked in, stopping short when she saw the occupants of the room.
"Rory!" Paris squeaked out in surprise. Her expression was a mixture of guilt and shock as she looked back and forth from Rory to Logan.
"Paris! Hi! You're back early," Rory said with manufactured pep. She still couldn't believe what she'd seen, and she was determined to pretend it hadn't happened. The 'ignore it and it will go away' approach was definitely the route she was opting to take here.
"You're back early," Paris pointed out, walking into the room and trying to act casual but failing miserably.
"Just thought I'd get a jump on things." Rory replied, her voice squirrely with discomfort.
Paris' gaze shifted to Logan. "Yes, I'm sure there was plenty of jumping planned."
"There was," Logan replied pointedly. "It appears some of us got more of a jump then others."
Rory elbowed him with a scowl. "What?" Logan asked innocently. "She has no luggage. She clearly got here a while ago. I bet she's been wrapped up in…her studies, all evening."
Paris narrowed her eyes indignantly. "I got back this morning, so I unpacked and went to visit my Mom."
"Is she good?" Rory asked, grasping on to any opportunity to move this discussion away from the its current path.
"She wasn't there. Jamie says 'hello'," Paris added, referring to the boyfriend she'd supposedly been skiing with all winter break.
"Oh good," Rory fidgeted uncomfortably. "Hello back at him," there was an awkward pause.
"You're terrible at this," Logan whispered in his girlfriend's ear with a smirk.
Rory ignored him. "So, you guys have fun?" she asked Paris.
"I told you that on the phone."
"I know," Rory agreed. "You have fun after that?" she quickly added.
"Sure. The resort was beautiful. Little too…star-studded. Harrison Ford and Callista Flockhart were there. They tongue kissed in public."
"Hmm, like this?" Logan asked grabbing Rory's head and pulling it in for a kiss. Seeing Paris squirm was fun for a few minutes, but it's not what he was there for. He was ready to turn his attention back to his girl.
"Get a room," Paris gagged. As though seeing him and Rory kiss was anywhere near as traumatic as seeing her and Professor Fleming getting tonguey.
"This is a room," Logan reminded her.
"It's a common room. Key word, common."
"Fine, we'll take the bedroom. You can stay out here and keep Carl company," Logan replied, nodding towards the workman who was doing an excellent impersonation of a deaf man.
Paris scoffed, storming off towards the bedroom she and Rory shared.
The door closed and Rory turned to Logan. "Not a word!" she hissed.
"Works for me," Logan replied. "I've can think of plenty of things to do with my mouth that don't involve talking." He leaned in for another kiss, but Rory pushed him away.
"I'm serious, Logan."
"So am I. In fact, I seriously think we should take this back to my place for a little privacy."
"We saw nothing outside that window tonight." Rory reiterated.
"Great, then why are we still talking about it?"
"We're not."
"Okay," Logan nodded in agreement. "So…my place?"
Rory huffed. "You need to promise."
"Promise what?" Logan shrugged his shoulders in exacerbation. "You want me to make a promise about something we didn't see and aren't talking about?"
"I want to never talk about this ever again but in order for that to happen, you need to promise not to say anything to anyone. Because if people find out about this…"
"Seriously, Ace…I'm already past it. Sure, that little interaction was amusing, but that's as far as my interest in Paris' love life goes. Besides, I don't need to give that woman any more excuses to hate me."
"Good," Rory sighed in relief. "Now about your place…"
"Okay…Hold on…" Rory said as she slapped a few more pieces of scotch tape to the sheets of not-so-artfully folded newspaper she was holding. "And…" she took newspaper and placed it on her head. "What do you think?"
Paris looked up at her. "It stinks," she shrugged matter-of-factly as she put the finishing touches on her own creation.
"Well, it's a newspaper hat, it's not supposed to spark a trend." Rory reminded her.
"There," Paris replied, donning a freakishly stylish newspaper version of a cloche hat—flower detail and all.
"How'd you do that?" Rory asked in astonishment.
"Martha Stewart."
"Martha Stewart actually did a segment on how to make a hat out of newspaper?" she asked in disbelief.
"Yes." Paris shrugged, tucking a piece of hair behind her ear.
"Oh." Rory relented. "Well, it looks nice."
"Aah! What is this?" an exasperated voice from behind them screeched. The girls turned to see one of their fellow freshman initiates crumpling up a piece of paper at a nearby desk and tossing it angrily over his shoulder. "Academically approved torture? Make your own hat—that's how you get on the paper? 'Cause that has what to do with anything?"
"Relax, Glenn"
"It's tradition."
"It's not tradition," Glen argued. "It's hazing. Why don't they just handcuff us naked to a streetlamp wearing a sign that says, 'honk if you like unbiased journalism'?"
"Now that I'd pay good money to see." Rory felt her stomach go all butterfly-y at the voice as a pair of arms wrapped around her from behind.
"You'd pay good money to see a monkey do a strip tease, Huntzberger," Paris snapped.
"Hey, Paris." Logan replied smoothly. "How's the semester going for you so far? Have any good…professors?" Paris's eyes narrowed dangerously.
"I bet you never had to do this." Glen griped to Logan.
"Hmm, let me think…" Logan tapped his chin thoughtfully. "Nope. Must have had something else to do that night. Maybe…with my father."
"Don't be an ass, Logan," Rory reminded him.
"I'm not doing this," Glen went on. "They can't make me."
"You don't wear the hat, you're not getting on the paper," another voice cut in. It was Doyle.
Glen squirmed anxiously in his seat. "I need another sheet."
"Ladies and gentlemen," Doyle announced as he made his way to the center of the newsroom. "Tonight represents a melding of the old and the new. For one night, identifying the two groups will be easy. The old will be the ones running around frantically trying to get out the latest issue of the Daily News, and the new will be the ones in the stupid hats. It's a much-beloved tradition that for one night, all night, you don a hat of your own making, wait on members of the paper while observing the inner working of the Yale Daily News…"
Logan leaned back against the desk as Doyle continued on. "Hear that, Ace," he replied, a smug smile on his face. "The people in the hats—that's you..." he tapped her newspaper clad head, "get to wait on members of the paper—that's me."
"You have to actually work on the paper," Paris reminded him.
"Work," Logan contemplated, crossing his arms over his chest. "An interesting concept." He nodded at the thought. "Hmm. I think I'll take the chance that my father might actually see my byline and be proud of me, if it means making Ace here do my every whim."
Rory rolled her eyes at her boyfriend. "I'm supposed to get you dinner, not be your personal slave."
"We can start with dinner," Logan agreed. "Then we'll see. I mean, the man did say aaaaaaall night."
Rory scoffed. "In your dreams."
"Hey," Logan stood up to face his girlfriend straight on. "I'm more than happy to make your dreams come true too. I recall hearing you say something in your sleep about…"
"Oh my god!" Rory cut him off. "Stop talking."
"I hate Time Magazine. Cheryl, I need tea!" Doyle finished whatever speech they had not been paying attention to and slammed a paper down on the desk.
Logan chuckled softly, tapping Rory on the nose. "I'm gonna go check out the dinner menus," he said, nodding his head towards the other side of the room.
"Your boyfriend is a pig," Paris said as he walked away.
"At the moment, I'm inclined to agree with you."
There was a pause and Paris shifted uncomfortably, crossing her arms over her chest. "You know, you never told me what you thought of my article."
"Um, what article?" Rory asked, avoiding eye contact with her friend. She knew exactly which article Paris was asking about; an in-depth interview with a certain someone whom Paris had surely gotten the…inside scoop on.
"My interview with Asher Fleming. Did you read it?" Paris played with the sleeves of her sweater.
Rory fidgeted uncomfortably, scratching at an invisible itch on her neck, then grabbing for a pad of paper and a pen off the desk. "I skimmed it."
"Oh, well, I have a copy in our room. I can give it to you tomorrow."
"You're a good writer." Rory started walking and Paris followed her. "I'm sure it's good."
"Yeah, but still, I'd like you to read it. I trust your opinion, and I'd like to be able to discuss it with you." That was exactly what Rory was worried about. She didn't want to discuss it with Paris. She wanted to never, ever, ever discuss it at all.
"Look, we're supposed to be taking dinner orders, so. . ." she deferred, burying her face in a takeout menu. At that moment Paris' cell phone rang and Rory felt a wave of relief wash over her—for a second.
"Hello?" Paris answered "Hi," she added a second later in a dreamy tone.
Crap, Rory thought. She had a pretty good inkling who was on the other end of that line.
"No phone calls while you're wearing the hat!" Doyle yelled across the room.
"Hold on," Paris said to the person on the phone before turning her attention to Rory. "I will be right back."
"Where are you going? You're not supposed to leave while you're wearing the hat." Rory hissed.
"I will be right back." Paris replied in a whisper as she grabbed her coat and headed out of the newsroom.
Rory watched her go until Glen approached, wearing a single sheet of newspaper strapped to his head with a rubber band. "It's a good thing high school had already beaten all the self-esteem out of me."
"That's the spirit, Glen," Logan patted him on the back as he joined them, turning his attention to Rory. "Now, for dinner I was thinking a nice, juicy porterhouse…"
Rory walked into the newspaper office, ice cream in hand, and headed for Doyle's desk. "Can you beat him to death with that?" Aliya, one of the staff writers asked as she passed by her.
"I don't think so. It's soft serve." Rory chuckled uncomfortably. It's not that she didn't understand where Aliya was coming from. Doyle could be difficult on a good day. And today had not been a good day. Doyle had been extra grumpy all night despite the myriad of freshman waiting on him hand and foot. Hopefully a sugar rush would help with his funk. "I got your ice cream." She announced as she got to the editor's desk.
Doyle took the takeout bowl and spoon from Rory's hand and looked down. "What is this?" he asked.
"Strawberry ice cream." Rory informed him. It was what he had ordered, plus the frozen, pink, swirly stuff in the container labeled "Henley's Ice Cream" seemed like a dead giveaway.
"It has strawberries in it."
"I don't even know how to respond to that."
"I wanted plain strawberry ice cream without chunks of strawberries in it," Doyle explained with condescension. "This has chunks."
"I see one." He was seriously gonna make a fuss over one strawberry chunk? Couldn't he just eat around it?
"I can't eat this. Take it away." Doyle thrust the ice cream back at her.
Apparently not. "Would you like me to get you something else?"
"No, just forget it." Rory took the ice cream and started to walk away. "Fine," Doyle sighed a second later. "Bring it back."
Rory turned around again with a sigh, headed back to Doyle's desk.
"Ooh, ice cream," Logan said, swooping in and grabbing the container and spoon from her hands before she could get back to her editor. "Such a thoughtful girlfriend." He took the lid off, and dipped the spoon in. The ice cream had made it halfway to his mouth before Rory grabbed it back out of his hands.
"Not yours," she reminded him, handing the bowl to its rightful owner. "Are you okay, Doyle?" she asked her exacerbated editor.
"Yes. Why wouldn't I be?" he replied shortly, looking from Rory to Logan.
"I don't know. You just seem a little bit annoyed tonight." Rory replied.
"Well," Doyle raged, standing up and walking over to counter to grab a new spoon. "I have an issue to put out with a big hole on the back page because my editorial writers chose to be unopinionated today!" He sat back down and glared at Logan.
"Hey, don't look at me," Logan held his hands up innocently. "I offered to bang out a piece about the raging dorm party I threw last night."
Doyle looked at Rory. "Why are you dating him?"
"He's just being a smartass to annoy you Doyle." Rory informed him.
"Exactly, so why are you dating him?"
Rory shrugged. "Beats me." There were reasons, she was sure of it, but they all seemed to be failing her at the moment. "So other than the paucity of editorials and my annoying, soon to be ex-boyfriend, there's nothing else going on?" Rory prodded. Logan seemed to take her comments in stride, throwing his arm over her shoulder.
Doyle sighed. "I got rejected for a job as Yale's stringer to Time magazine."
"Ah, so, that explains it." Both the bad mood, and his new-found hatred of the magazine.
"This is a major blow to my career, you know."
"You're twenty," Rory reminded him.
"These things can follow you, Rory. One day you're feeling good, you're the fair-haired boy, and the next day you're Schleprock."
"You're not Schleprock, Doyle."
"I don't know, give him your hat and I can kind of see the resemblance."
She turned to her boyfriend. "Why am I dating you again?"
"My quick wit?" Logan hazard. "My amazing work ethic?" Rory just glared. "No? Must be because I'm good looking and rich." She rolled her eyes at him. Logan was spared from her fiery retort by the appearance of Glen.
"Okay, I just have to say how amazingly unfair it is that I have a rubber band working its way into my brain, and Paris gets to bail." Rory's hackles immediately went up. Paris wasn't back? She'd left to take that phone call over an hour ago.
"Paris isn't here?" she asked in a panic. Great. This was exactly the kind of problem she didn't want to deal with. Having to cover for Paris and her affair. Besides the fact that it was just plane ookie, she didn't want to be put in the middle.
"No, she isn't," Glen confirmed.
Doyle looked at Rory. "You didn't know she left?" he asked.
"No. I knew that…"
"I sent her on an errand," Logan broke in.
"What?" Doyle asked.
"I sent her to get me some dinner."
"For an hour?" Glen asked suspiciously.
"At this restaurant I love in Manhattan," Logan confirmed. Doyle and Glen just stared at him disbelievingly. "What? I have very particular tastes."
Doyle sighed, accepting his answer. He wouldn't put it past Logan. "Don't Bogart anymore of my initiates," he replied with a shake of his head. He dug his spoon into the ice cream and took a bite. When he looked back up, Logan, Rory and Glen were all still standing around his desk. "We're done here," he snapped.
Logan and Rory made their way away from the desk a few steps before Rory pulled Logan into a corner. "What did you do that for?" she hissed.
"Do what?" Logan asked innocently.
Rory rolled her eyes. "Cover for Paris." He was up to something, he had to be. Why else would he lie for her?
"I don't know what you're talking about," he answered. "I just really wanted some Fois Gras Shabu Shabu from Masa."
"I know that's not where she went."
"Are you sure," he asked with a furrowed brow. "Because I'm gonna be really bummed if I don't get my fancy sushi."
Rory looked him up and down appraisingly. What was he getting at? He certainly wasn't doing this to protect Paris. So why would he cover for her?
"Logan why are you…"
"I really don't know what you're talking about Ace," Logan said pointedly. "In fact, I don't know a thing, and I thought we weren't talking about the thing I don't know, remember?" He gave her a wink. Rory relaxed slightly. She understood now. She suddenly remembered why she was dating him after all. Underneath the smug façade was a good guy who looked out for the people he cared about—and, apparently, the people the people he cared about cared about. Paris' secret was safe with him.
AN: I'm baaaaaaack. Did you miss me? Feel free to let me know just how much in a comment. Also, you can use the comments to tell me what you think of this particular chapter. Will Logan really keep quiet or will he spill the beans to the stooges or someone else? Will word of Paris' affair get around in this version of season 4? Will Rory continue to do Logan's bidding ALLLL night ;) And Rory still hasn't said "I love you," When will that happen? Or will Logan's smug annoyingness ruin his chances of hearing the "l" word. Although Rory did say she wanted to see a messier side of Logan. Not quite sure this is what she had in mind though...