October 2004

It stretched into the sky; a scaffolding of metal rebar that towered over the trees. It had been there all along, obviously. These kinds of things didn't just pop up out of nowhere. She was pretty sure she'd noticed it before, but it had kind of faded into the background amidst the pageantry of the entire event. Her brain must have just written it off as a pre-existing structure—maybe a radio tower of some sort, or a weather station. But, as she gazed up at the crest adorned banner that hung from the upper platform where four people stood, it was suddenly very clear that the umbrellas they were holding had nothing to do with the weather.

"Hope you're thinking up superlatives." Logan didn't stop walking as he breezed past her and without thinking, Rory's feet immediately fell in step, needing him to tell her more.

"What are they going to do?"

"What do you think they're going to do?"

"They're not going to jump." But of course, she knew they were. And despite her absolute certainty that it was a suicide mission, a part of her envied them. She envied all of these people, so easily able to askew the stress and responsibilities, and mundanities of life and actually live. Of course, it was a lot easier to take chances when you had deep pockets to bail you out. Still, there seemed something so liberating about standing on top of the world and taking a step into the unknown.

"They're gonna jump!"

"That's like seven stories! They'll die!" It wasn't dreamy and romantic, she reminded herself. It was stupid and dangerous.

"We're all going to die one day." He finally stopped walking and turned to look at her.

"But those four are today." She pointed up at them.

"Six."

Rory looked up again, counting the silhouettes that loomed so far above her she could barely make them out. "I see four."

"I'm heading up."

Why was she not surprised. "Of course you are." The words came out as a scoff. She should have known that where there was adventure, there was Logan Huntzberger—the more irresponsible the escapade, the better.

"And Finn was supposed to do it, but few of us figured he'd make it this far, so there's an extra space."

"Hmm." She was with them on that. From the little she'd seen of Finn, it was a miracle he hadn't been offed by a rogue kangaroo before he hit grade school. She glanced back up again, wondering who would take his spot, and then back at Logan who was gazing at her expectantly. "No!" Her eyes went wide. Hell no! Was he insane? Clearly he was since he was planning to get in on this ridiculous caper, but he could gamble with his own life; she was keeping her feet firmly planted on the ground.

"And we're not going to die. No one in the Life and Death Brigade has ever died…Old ones have," he clarified.

"I am not going to jump!"

Another member of the group tapped Logan on the shoulder. "We're all set."

"This is Seth," Logan introduced, "he's the genius behind all this."

"It's very safe," he assured her. "We did a dozen successful test drops; every potato came through without a scratch."

"Potato?" Was he messing with her? Please, let him be messing with her. He wasn't really expecting her to jump off a shoddily made, seven-story scaffolding in the middle of the nowhere that had only been tested on root vegetables. She was going to hyperventilate. Where was a paper bag when you needed one?

"You can't test using people," Logan piped in with an annoyingly matter-of-fact tone of voice, "that'd be dangerous!" Oh god, they were serious. She'd let herself be kidnapped and taken to some remote location in the woods and now she had no way out of this insanity. She was going to die. And for what?

'For Logan,' a voice whispered inside of her head. No, not for Logan, that was ridiculous. She didn't even like Logan. He was spoiled and egotistical and irresponsible. This wasn't about him; it was about the story. She was a reporter and she was here to get her story

"Look, thanks for the offer, but I'm here as a journalist. An observer. Journalists do not participate." She shrugged, pretending her hands were tied. Oh god, were they going to tie her hands and force her up there? She'd already been blind folded this weekend…it wasn't much of a step between that and bondage.

"Since when?"

"Since forever."

"George Plimpton never participated?"

"What?"

"His best stuff put him in the thick of it. Fighting Sugar Ray Robinson, quarterbacking for the Lions, skating for the Bruins."

Damn him for actually knowing his stuff. It only made her hate him more. He was suave, good-looking, rich, and he was smart and journalistically well versed? Damn him. "So he participated." It pained her to concede.

"Bill Buford lived with soccer hooligans in Among the Thugs. Ernie Pyle was so deep in the action in World War II, he was killed by a Japanese sniper, not that you gotta go that far."

"Buford, Pyle. I know." She was losing. She was losing this argument and she could not afford to lose. Not to Logan. He'd nearly bested her in the hallway that day they met. And now there was nothing 'nearly' about it. He was besting her, and her very life could hang in the balance.

"Richard Hottelet was four months in a Nazi prison working for the UP," he continued, his voice pitched with fever and zeal. "Hunter Thompson lived with the Hell's Angels. Got in the muck, didn't just orbit around it, and it drove his writing. He put you in those biker's parties, he put you in those biker's heads." He could stop now. She got the point. She still wasn't going to pull a Mary Poppins off the top of that tower.

"All right, all right, so, those guys participated. I got it, but I…"

"Jumpers to their places, please!" Colin appeared out of nowhere in a top hat.

"You're scared." Logan's voice was suddenly calmer, a touch of sympathy and understanding that seemed almost genuine.

"Well, yeah!" Only a fool wouldn't be; as evidenced by the man standing across from her. And yet he'd just very clearly proven he was no fool.

"And that stops the greats?"

"It's stopping this great!" She pointed at herself with a pen.

"Come on," he goaded, "you look like you need a little adventure."

"What does that mean?"

"You're just a little sheltered." The hell she was! What did he know about her life?

"Why? Because I haven't spent time in a Nazi prison, been stomped on by hooligans and beat up by Hell's Angels? And Plimpton got banged up pretty good too." She didn't need to go around doing stupid stunts to be adventurous. She was here at this spectacle, wasn't she? So what if she didn't do every stupid thing they did? She took chances. She had fun. She participated in life…didn't she?

"It'll be fun, it'll be a thrill. Something stupid, something bad for you. Just something different." He took a step towards her and she felt something shift. Maybe life wasn't all about following the rules and playing it safe. Maybe there was more to it than staying in line, getting good grades and doing what was expected of her. He almost made her believe there was. He almost made her want to fly. "Isn't this the point of being young? It's your choice, Ace." God, he was so close to her now, she could feel his breath on her face. "People can live a hundred years without really living for a minute. You climb up here with me, it's one less minute you haven't lived." It was like he was looking straight into her, waiting for the answer he already knew lay inside. Like he had read the thoughts she'd had when she'd first seen the jumpers, before the overwhelming terror had taken over. Logan could see something in her that no one else did. Doyle had once told her she was too nice to be a reporter. Jess had told her he couldn't see her out in the trenches getting a story. But Logan was telling her he could see it, that he knew she had it in her, and that she deserved to experience everything life had to offer. And more importantly, he made her believe it.

She took one last glance up and made up her mind. "Let's go."

The corners of his lips titched up, his eyes crinkling at the corners. "Let's go!"

Without giving herself a chance to second guess, she followed after him. "I am not a fan of ladders," she pointed out as they approached the base of the scaffolding.

"They scare the crap out of me too." Why did she find that somehow soothing? She dropped her notebook on the ground and started climbing. She could feel Logan's presence behind her as she scaled the side of the tower, trying not to look down. She made it to the top, walking past the others—three boys and a girl—who were already in place, attached to harnesses and holding the matching umbrellas she had seen from bellow. She stopped halfway, finally giving in and glancing down at the world below. The people on the ground looked like very well-dressed ants.

"High. We are very high." Her chest clenched with apprehension.

"I've been higher."

She'd roll her eyes if she weren't afraid to move a muscle. He probably was high; it would explain a lot. "I meant distance from the ground."

"That, too." He pushed past her to their spots and she followed.

"This is totally safe," Seth greeted her, holding up a harness. "And it goes with your outfit. Nice." She felt slightly dazed and confused as he circled it around her waist and attached the cables. Colin was orating in Latin down below.

"Why do they look so worried?" she pointed at a group of spectators on the ground. Oh god, what had she gotten herself into? She was going to die. Shouldn't her life be flashing before her eyes right now?

"We're low on champagne," Logan deadpanned. He was holding two umbrellas but had yet to hand one to her. "You can back out, you know. No one's forcing you." She surveyed the ground below her. She could do this. She may have let him get the best of her in their argument down below, but she was here now and she'd be damned if she gave him the satisfaction of her backing out.

"I know." She grabbed one of the umbrellas from him, holding it up and steeling her shoulders.

"You trust me?"

So help her God, she actually did. For some unfathomable reason, she trusted him. And they were in this together. "You jump, I jump, Jack."

"In Omnia Paratus!" The crowd chanted down below.

"I really should have confirmed that those potatoes were okay." Rory only had a split second to do a double take before Logan grabbed her hand and together, they stepped off the brink into the unknown.

February 2006

"No." Colin froze dead in the doorway as though an invisible forcefield was blocking his entry. His eyes were wide, his mouth agape as his head pivoted in slow motion. "Just…no."

"Well, I think it's simply charming," Finn pushed his way past his immobilized friend, apparently unaffected by whatever mystical barrier was keeping Colin out. "Quite adorable, actually. I could just pick it up and stuff it my pocket. It's so…" he looked around at the apartment as his face scrunched up and he held up his hands in a squeezing motion. "Squishy."

"There's a sofa in your entryway." Colin pointed at the secondhand loveseat against the wall that the movers had brought with the rest of the furniture yesterday. Lorelai and Christopher had also helped them schlep boxes over from Chris's apartment as well as Logan's storage unit. But today was all about unpacking it and getting settled in.

"This is the living room," Logan informed him.

Colin blinked, his face blank and bewildered. "There's also a kitchen table," he noted.

"It's also the dining room."

"It's not a room at all. It's a…foyer at best." True, the place was small, but it was clean and all the appliances, though old, were in good repair. Plus, Allston was a good neighborhood, not too far from Backbay or Cambridge so both he and Rory could get to work. And it was a two bedroom so there was a nursery for Samuel. Logan had spent weeks searching for an acceptable place for them and this was as good as it got on their budget…which he'd already expanded exponentially. Most of the apartments in their price range had been depressing at best, and health hazards at worse. The rent on this place was costing them Logan's entire monthly salary from the start up. He hadn't wanted to use the money from the sale of the Porsche for anything more than basic startup costs—deposit on the apartment, necessities' for Samuel, some cheap furniture—but he'd finally succumb to the reality that he had to. Even with Rory going back to work at the bookstore in a few weeks, that would only be part time at barely more than minimum wage.

"I…but…" Colin muttered hopelessly from the doorway as Finn took it upon himself to stick his head into the kitchen.

"I'm really loving this brown, linoleum floor. It's got kitschy, fast-food kitchen vibes."

"What do you know about fast-food kitchens, Finn?"

"I dated a girl who managed a McDonalds once. And by dated, I mean we spent every night for a week meeting up at closing time and having sex on the toppings bar."

"Eww." Jo looked Finn up and down with repulsion as she made her way out of the nursery where she and Rory were unpacking Samuel's things. Then, she turned to the open front door where Colin still stood.

"What's his problem?" she asked Logan, nodding Colin's way.

"That's Colin, his delicate sensibilities can't handle sharing space with the common folk. He thinks anything under 1500 square feet and without central air is basically a crack den."

"Isn't that special." Jo rolled her eyes. While he and Jo got along well, Logan was not at all surprised that she had no patience for his friends…eccentricities. It was going to make for an interesting afternoon.

"I'm sorry, Love," Finn ducked around Logan so he could stand in front of Jo, taking her hand and giving it a kiss. "I don't believe we've met."

"Stop hitting on Jo, Finn." Rory joined them, Samuel resting in a baby sling on her chest.

"Yeah, I'm a high-class girl. I don't sleep with guys in the back of MacDonalds; I need an Olive Garden, at least." Logan chuckled. At least she could give as good as she got.

"If it's the endless salad and breadsticks you're looking for, you can eat my breadstick all night long. Also, I toss a mean salad."

"I repeat…eww."

"Colin, get in here and close the door," Rory chastised, ignoring Finn's crass come-ons. "You're letting out all the heat." Colin scowled at her but then begrudgingly entered. Colin had made little to no progress in forgiving Rory for the pain she'd caused Logan, but so far, he'd managed to be civil other than the occasional side eye. Finn on the other hand had technically forgiven, but that didn't stop him from the inappropriate teasing.

"So, this must be little Adrian," Finn said in a high-pitched baby voice, looking down at the sleeping infant.

"His name is Samuel," Rory corrected even though Logan knew she knew what Finn was doing. She seemed to accept it with a vague sense of exasperation.

"Do you hang an upside down cross over his bed?" the Australian asked, continuing his bit.

"You do realize that Rosemary wasn't evil, right? Adrian got his satanic tendencies from his father—are you trying to infer something sinister about Logan?"

"Well, I have known him longer, though less intimately than you," Finn replied with a smirk, "and I have seen some very naughty things. Downright sinful."

"Finn, knock it off." He knew his friend was just joking but he never knew when enough was enough.

"What? Do you not want your baby mamma to know about the time in Osaka when…"

"Finn!" Jesus, it was like having a poorly trained parrot around. Not that Rory didn't know he had a less than savory past, but not every story needed telling.

"Soooooory," Finn sing-songed, holding his hands up in front of him. "I guess I'll just refrain from saying anything at all. It'll be like Finny isn't even here." He crossed his arms in front of him like a petulant child.

"What a shame."

Meanwhile, Colin continued to gawk with horrified awe at his surroundings. He ran a finger along a floating shelf, then rubbed his fingers together as though he were wearing a white glove and checking for dust.

"Does it pass inspection, Mr. Clean?"

Colin glanced up at Jo as he brushed off his hands. "No."

"Why are you even here?" she asked.

"Because my best friend is throwing his life away and I want to be supportive."

"Well, you're doing a spectacular job of it."

"Colin doesn't have a lot of experience with empathy," Finn pointed out. "It's an infrequently used muscle that needs to be worked out…you know, like his scrawny, little triceps." Finn poked Colin in the arm.

Jo shook her head and turned back to Rory, apparently done indulging the newcomers. "You want to go finish the nursery and leave these bozos alone?"

Rory pulled out a chair from the small dinette table and sank into it. "I think I need a little break," She looked up at Logan. "Maybe we can order a pizza?"

"Sure." Take out wasn't really in their budget at the moment, but he'd make Colin pay for it.

Logan picked up the phone and called the pizzeria they'd scouted out down the block. "Pizza will be here in twenty," he announced. "Here," he went to the corner and picked up a box, depositing it in front of his friends. "Make yourself useful while we wait and put these books on the bookshelf over there."

"How come you're not making her work," Finn whined, pointing at Jo who had sat at the table across from Rory in the only other chair.

"She's been unpacking for the last three hours."

"Fine, whatever," he huffed. Logan went to grab another box.

"When do you go back to work?" Jo asked Rory as the boys unpacked.

"First week of March," she answered. Logan had wanted her to take more time off, but she'd insisted. And while he didn't like the idea of her pushing herself, he found something reassuring about the fact that she seemed to want to; not just because they needed the money or because she wanted to contribute and not be stuck home all day, but because she genuinely seemed to be looking forward to the prospect of being around books again. It was a glimpse of the passion and drive he'd first fallen for…of the woman who loved school and learning and aromatic, old leather bound volumes.

"And Miriam is going to watch Samuel?"

"Yeah. Which is great because she's already Gigi's nanny full time so with my schedule changing every week, I don't have to worry about her availability."

Plus, she was already vetted, and she knew Samuel. It was also a financial lifesaver that Logan knew they couldn't afford to turn down. Childcare was expensive, no matter what option you picked. And daycares wouldn't even take him until he was six-months anyway. And while Miriam was going to need a raise to compensate for the extra work of taking care of two kids instead of one, it was still a fraction of the cost of finding someone to watch Samuel on their own. Christopher had tried to insist it was no big deal and that he'd cover the costs, but neither Rory nor Logan were comfortable with that. Christopher had already done so much for them. He'd showered Samuel with presents…of the necessary and frivolous varieties. But it was time for them to make their own way in this world.

Logan grabbed another box and started unpacking some of the kitchen supplies until the doorbell rang a little while later, waking Samuel who began to wail.

"My ears!" Finn clapped his hands over the side of his head. "My god, what is that noise it makes?"

"It's like the world's most annoying alarm," Colin opined.

Logan ignored them—he had a lot of experience with that. "Is he hungry?" he asked Rory, going over to check on them.

Rory shook her head. "I fed him just before Colin and Finn got here."

Logan scooped Samuel up, able to feel the weight of the wet diaper beneath his cartoon dog onesie. "Looks like I've identified the culprit." He smiled down at his son. "Does someone need a new diaper?" he asked in his best baby voice. "Come on, Daddy's got this."

"You're volunteering?" Colin asked, aghast.

"It's not volunteering when it's your own kid, Col. It's just called parenting." He turned back to Rory and bent down to give her a kiss on the forehead. "We'll be back in a jiffy."

Logan walked past Colin and Finn towards the nursery, bouncing Samuel and singing to him as he went.

"Crickey, Colin," he heard Finn exclaim to their friend with horror in his voice. "I think he's actually…happy about it."

"Dear god, I think you're right."

The room really was tiny, Logan noted as he stared at the wall just a few feet in front of where he sat on the sofa. They couldn't fit a TV there…even a flat screen on the wall would be futile unless they wanted to strain their necks just to watch The Office. There was definitely no room to put an ottoman or anything. In fact, if Logan stuck his legs straight out, there was a decent chance his feet could touch the wall. Not that Logan was planning to test that theory at the moment. Even if he had a lick of energy left to attempt to levitate his legs, he didn't want risk moving and waking Samuel who was asleep on his chest.

But despite the minuscule size of the place, or perhaps even because of it, he felt at home here, in this apartment he'd yet to even spend the night in, in a way he never had anywhere else before. There was a coziness to it. It felt encapsulated and safe. It was his—his and Rory's and Samuel's.

"Here," Rory said, making her way out of the kitchen with two glasses of brown liquid. "I broke open Finn's housewarming present; I figured we earned it."

Logan took the fuller glass from her as she joined him on the couch, snuggling up into his side.

"Mmmm," Logan nodded, his eyes heavy. "How is it that we have an eight-week-old but our friends are the exhausting ones?"

"Our friends?" Rory repeated, her eyebrows high as she glared down at him with a teasing glint.

"Hey, Jo…" He tried to think of something annoying or exasperating that Jo had done but other than clap back at Colin and Finn's inanity, she'd been nothing but helpful. And sure, she had a bit of an attitude with them in general—which only tended to egg them on—but they were an acquired taste; one which many people never acquired. "Fine, my friends," Logan conceded.

Rory relaxed into him, taking a sip of the scotch before letting her head come to rest on his shoulder.

"Can you drink that?" he asked. He assumed the answer was 'yes' or she wouldn't be. He was just surprised; he hadn't seen her imbibe at all yet since Samuel had been born.

"I have some pumped milk in the fridge for later."

"Mmm. I'm sorry about Colin and Finn, by the way. They're, well, pretty normal for Colin and Finn, actually."

"It's fine," Rory assured him. She seemed sincerely unperturbed, but Logan knew they were a lot to handle. And they had made it even harder than usual while they were over, given everything that had happened in the past year.

"I'll talk to them," he assured her. "And if they can't behave…"

"Logan," She sat back up to look him in the eye. "They're your friends. And yes, they have a rather…unusual way of showing it, but they care about you."

"Okay…" He wasn't quite sure what she was getting at.

"You've given up so much already. Your family, your job, your money…"

"Hey," he assured her, brushing a hand along her cheek, "I didn't give up anything I actually wanted."

"Okay, but you want your friends…"

Logan shrugged, "Somedays," he conceded with a wry smile, "when I don't want to kill them."

"I can't really blame them for giving me a hard time. I know I put you through a lot when I disappeared."

"That's in the past."

"No," she shook her head, sitting completely upright this time. "I umm…I should have said this a long time ago, but…I'm sorry. I don't think I ever really said that…to my family, yeah, but not to you."

"You don't owe me any apologies, Ace. You were going through something huge and at that point, we were barely even a thing."

"But we were something. And I may have been running from my family, but I left you behind too. You didn't deserve that."

"Well, fortunately I'm a stubborn ass who refused to be left, so it all worked out," he smirked.

"Logan, I'm serious," she chided.

He let out a sigh. "I'm know. I just…I forgave you a long time ago. I swear, we're good, okay?"

She looked at him with a critical eye, trying to suss out if he meant it or not. "Okay," she finally said with a nod, apparently concluding that he did, in fact, mean it.

They settled into silence for a bit; Rory, him and Samuel, all melded into one on their tiny sofa in their tiny apartment. Some traffic went by outside. The upstairs neighbors' footsteps were padding softly above them.

He never would have pictured this as his life. He would have laughed at this life a year ago. And yet here he was, exhausted, relaxed, fulfilled, with a family he loved. He had no idea what lay before them; would the start-up be a success? Would it be a massive failure sending him back to his father on his hands and knees? Would Rory ever go back to school? Would Samuel grow up into a happy well-adjusted adult or were they destined to mess him up, just like their parents and their parents before them?

There wasn't much that frightened Logan; maybe that was because he never had much to lose before. But as he sat there with his son and the woman he loved, at the precipice of their lives, with no more safety net, he was suddenly terrified. How could he be so thoroughly content and so horrifyingly scared at the same time?

"Ace?"

"Hmm?" she hummed sleepily, her face burrowed into Logan's chest, her hand lazily stroking Samuel's back.

"Are you scared?"

She nodded, looking up at him through droopy lids. "Petrified."

"Me too." He kind of hoped she'd be too groggy to remember his admission in the morning.

"That's okay," she mumbled into his side. "That doesn't stop the greats."

He felt a sudden well of assurance at her words; this was them, after everything they'd been though, there was nothing they couldn't tackle together. They would take the leap into this unknown together. He let his hand graze down her arm to find hers, lacing their fingers together. "You jump, I jump, Ace," he whispered.

AN: The end...well, except for the epilogue. I hope it didn't disappoint and I know there were some mixed feelings on the last chapter. Anyway, I should have the epilogue up next weekend or early next week at the latest. And then it's all FN all the time.