Gilmore Girls

Uncanny

A/N: I know I'm turning chapters over quite quickly at the moment but don't expect it to last. I've had a lot of time on the computer lately which is unusual. I promise that there will be more Tristan in the next few chapters to give his character more gravity. Thanks so, so much for the support! I'm starting to get back to reviews and I'm doing it chapter by chapterso don't be suprised if you have more than one reply from me. Happy reading! Evie. x

Summary: The voice on the answering machine. The picture on the entertainment. Both are eerily, uncannily familiar. L/R/T in London.

Disclaimer: I do not own nor am I affiliated with Gilmore Girls in anyway.

Chapter Four

The meeting was a roaring success. Rory bit her tongue many times when she heard Logan quote his father. She still had no idea how they came from the same gene pool but when she had watched them work side-by-side, it had been easy to see that they were related. He had the same fire and passion that Mitchum had had and he had just as much, if not more, talent as his father but that was where the similarity stopped.

"How did I do, Ace?" Logan asked with a smile. She shrugged and tried to keep the smile off her face. "Oh come on. I know you better than that. I was a knock-out."

"You're incorrigible," she said. She stood up and straightened her skirt. "I just have to check-in with Jenny. Stay here and then I'll show you to my office."

"My office," Logan called as she left the room.

She returned to the room five minutes later and found Logan chatting with Lola. Flirting was more like it. Rory sighed and rolled her eyes in agitation but she wasn't surprised. She had known Lola would go after him as soon as she had heard that Logan was coming. There it was. Another clue that Logan was the nice American boy coming to stay with them. She had known Logan was coming to the newspaper and that he was starting around the same time that their new roommate was coming. The thought, however, had never crossed her mind. She had just assumed that Logan would move back into the apartment that they had rented.

Rory pushed the thoughts out of her mind and watched Logan and Lola talk. They had no time for this and she was not in the mood. She stormed into the room and pretended not to see Lola.

"Let me show you the office," she said standing right next to Logan, interrupting them. She glanced over at Lola and smiled. "Oh, Lola, I didn't see you there."

"It's okay," Lola answered. She turned her attention right back to Logan who was ignoring her.

"Logan!" Rory snapped. "Let's go."

"Can it wait?" Logan asked, not looking up from Lola.

"No, it can't wait," Rory replied. She turned on her heel and marched to the door. Logan looked up at her in amusement but he stood up and followed her.

"I'd better do what she says," he said turning around. "She knows where the coffee is."

"That she does," Rory replied impatiently. She began to tap her foot. Logan tipped an imaginary hat at Lola before turning to Rory.

"I am the boss," he reminded her. She rolled her eyes. "That means if I want five more minutes talking to a beautiful lady, I'll take five minutes more. Plus I'm sure that anyone here could show me where your office is."

"Are you quite done?" she asked.

"Are you quite jealous?" he shot-back. The look on her face was priceless so as they walked down the hall, he kept going. "Seriously, Ace, it's nothing to be ashamed of or embarrassed about."

"Don't know what you're talking about," she called over her shoulder. She kept a nonplussed demeanor but he knew better. She was fuming.

"Oh, come on," he provoked. "You couldn't get me away from Lulu fast enough. I've never seen someone so green with envy before."

She didn't even bother correcting his mistake. They had reached her office and instead of answering, she swung open a heavy green door, revealing exactly what Logan had expected. Charcoal carpet, lighter grey desk, black bookcases crammed full of books and folders, black leather couch with stone coloured cushions and a beige cashmere throw, black leather chairs on either side of the desk (one big, two small). It was very Huntzberger Publishing Group down to the pot-plants in the corner and the mint green painted walls.

It was a large, spacious, Rory Gilmore organized space, it's only redeeming feature the floor-to-ceiling windows that offered an unobstructed view of the iron coloured River Thames.

"Phew," Logan whistled, stepping in. "That's some view, Ace. We are definitely not in Kansas anymore."

"You've seen the River Thames before, Logan. We used to have an apartment that overlooked it," she reminded him. She stormed in and threw her black bag on the desk before whirling around to face him. "You and I need to have a little chat."

She slammed the door shut and moved to she was pressed between the door and her.

"This is rather intimate, don't you think, Ace? If DuGrey isn't happy with us living together, I'm almost certain he won't appreciate this."

"Leave Tristan out of this," she snapped. He flinched noticeably but made a decision not to bring up Tristan again.

"Rory, I can't step any further back and you're starting to freak me out," he murmured.

"You," she said, pushing her face right into his. "You are going to stop this right now. We are professionals. We are the bosses and we are going to act like it. From now on you will call me Rory and there will be none of this talk. I'm not jealous. I'm happy with Tristan and nothing, not even you, is going to come between us. You hear me?"

He heard her. He went to open his mouth but she wasn't finished.

"You can date who you want, when you want because I don't care. I got over you a long time ago and I am not going back there. We broke up for a reason," she continued.

"We broke up because you left me, Rory," he said softly. She glared at him and then pulled away. She walked casually to the other side of the desk and sat down. "Not so talkative now, huh, Ace?"

"There's nothing to talk about," she said measuredly. She moved her mouse and became fascinated with what was on her computer screen. A moment later she became aware of Logan staring at her. "What? Sit down, Logan."

"You're not wearing your glasses," he pointed out. She rolled her eyes but fished around her bag for the slim case that held her black square-frames. Apparently all those late nights staring intently at a computer screen and the added hours staring at tiny black ink hadn't done any favours for her eyes. She put the glasses on her nose and continued to work. She picked up a pen and made a note on a piece of paper. She became aware of Logan staring at her again and she threw the pen across the table. "What this time?"

"That exasperation was not necessary," he remarked. He began the process of taking off his coat and putting it in the closet next to the filing cabinet. "You're sitting in my seat."

"You're not serious," she replied dryly. He looked at her and her face dropped. "You are serious. Logan, I cannot believe this. This is my seat."

"I'm the boss now, Ace. I get the good seat," he said. She opened her mouth but he held a finger up to his mouth. "I know that you're 'teaching' me the ropes but I'm still the boss. Move it or lose it, Gilmore."

"I'd rather lose it," she said, not moving. Logan grabbed her by the arms and pulled her up. She squealed and pushed him away, plopping back into the chair. He made another move towards her and she jumped up and went to the other side of the desk. She sighed and sat down, watching as Logan made a big deal of sitting in her seat and re-adjusting it.

"Logan!" she cried, jumping up again. She threw her arms up in frustration. "I'd just gotten it where I liked it."

"I've got to tell you," he murmured under his breath. He swung around and surveyed the room. Knowing that he was going to ignore, Rory plopped back into her seat. "These offices need updating."

"The furniture is brand new," Rory said, turning her laptop around to face her.

"It's ugly and depressing," Logan retorted.

"Then fix it," Rory said. And then she went quiet.

-

"Honey, we're home," Rory cried as she and Logan entered the apartment. She bounced in and went straight to the kitchen, her arms going around Tristan's waist. "Something smells good."

"Chicken Scaloppini," Tristan answered. He turned around and kissed Rory before turning back to the saucepan. He tilted his head to Logan. "Have you ever eaten it before?"

"Yeah, at a little Italian place in Greenwich," he answered. "It didn't smell as good as that but."

"Yes, Tristan is a good cook and a great provider," Rory beamed. She patted Tristan lightly on the stomach and then pushed herself away from him and moved to the fridge. She pulled out a bottle of orange juice and cocked her head to ask Logan if he wanted some he nodded and she pulled out three glasses. "Tristan was going to become a chef but Daddy said that it wasn't a noble enough profession and forced him to take over the business."

"You that good, DuGrey?" Logan asked. He took the glass from Rory, letting their fingertips briefly knock together. "Thanks, Ace."

"I'm better than that good," Tristan replied. "Rory, can you watch this while I set the table?"

"I'll go get changed and then I'll set the table," Logan answered. Rory turned and glared at him. "Rory is a terrible cook and I actually want to eat tonight. It smells so good."

"I think that is a wise decision," Tristan agreed. Rory opened her mouth in shock.

"I cannot believe you two. I can so cook," she argued. Logan and Tristan looked at each other and began to laugh hysterically. "I'll prove it."

That stopped them in their tracks.

"Please don't, Ace," Logan begged.

"Yeah, Logan's right. Don't," Tristan agreed. "You'll only embarrass yourself."

"You guys suck," she cried. "I'm going to get changed."