Disclaimer: I own nothing.
Chapter 24 – So…Good Talk
A cold and very unusual silence settled over the normally warm and boisterous Hayden family dinner table. The table, though set for five, had only four occupants. Lorelai and Christopher sat on opposite ends, the former ignoring the latter's attempts to engage her in a conversation. On one side sat Kevin, and on the other, Joanna and an empty chair.
"Franny," called Lorelai, "we're ready to eat."
The middle-aged housekeeper poked her head into the dining room and frowned slightly. "Are you not waiting for Miss Rory? I made the pot roast especially for her."
"No," answered Lorelai, "Rory's not joining us for dinner tonight, but please prepare a plate for her. I'm sure she'll be hungry later."
A disappointed looking Franny nodded and turned to leave the room, but was halted by Christopher's voice.
"No, Franny," he said. Christopher, tired after a particularly long day, was very irritated with his daughter's absence and his wife's current attitude toward him. "Don't make a plate for her. If Rory wants to eat the dinner you prepared, she can come down here and do so. There's no need for you to go through any trouble just because my daughter is choosing to sulk up in her bedroom instead of having dinner with her family."
"Oh…but, Mr. Hayden, I don't mind…" stuttered Franny.
"No, Franny," interrupted Lorelai, as she sent a challenging glare across the table to her husband. "Please make the plate. Rory will be so upset she missed your pot roast. You know how much she loves your pot roast."
"Oh…yes, but…"
"No, Franny, don't make the plate," insisted Christopher returning his wife's angry stare. "If Rory wants pot roast, she should come down here and be sit in that chair waiting to be served pot roast like the rest of us."
"Yes, sir, but…."
"Maybe if her father and brother hadn't acted like such pompous idiots Rory would be here having dinner with her family," argued Lorelai in a raised voice. "Unfortunately, they did, so she's not."
"Oh stop it, Lorelai," ordered Christopher rising from his seat.
"Stop what, Chris?"
"Stop…" He looked around clearly flustered. He sat back in his chair doing his best to keep his temper in check despite Lorelai's obvious attempts to get under his skin. "Just stop ok. Stop acting like this."
"Like what?" she asked with an expression of mocked innocence.
"Lorelai, please." He looked into her eyes silently asking her to drop the matter.
She turned away from him, not saying a word.
"Should I bring dinner out?" asked Franny in a small voice breaking the awkward silence. She was very uncomfortable, not all used to seeing her employers argue.
"Yes, please, Franny, I'm starving," answered Kevin eager to put an end to his parents' argument.
Franny looked to Christopher and Lorelai for confirmation before moving to obey.
"Yes," said Christopher addressing her in much calmer tone of voice. "Please bring dinner out." He looked over at Lorelai who was looking everywhere but at him. He shook his head and let out a sad sigh. There was nothing he hated more than fighting with his wife. And while it wasn't in his nature to give up easily, he knew from years and years of experience that with Lorelai, it was best to choose your battles. So despite an ample amount of stubborn male pride, his better judgment told him arguing over pot roast was not in his best interest. "And please, Franny, prepare a plate for Rory and bring it up her room. I'm sure she's hungry." It was a peace offering of sorts, his way of letting Lorelai know he didn't want to fight any more. Christopher hoped that it would pacify her enough so that dinner wouldn't be completely unbearable.
"Yes, sir," muttered Franny. She turned toward the kitchen to do as she was told, but had hardly taken two steps before she was stopped again.
"No, Franny," said Lorelai. While she took a small amount of pleasure at her tiny victory over her husband, Christopher had yet to show any actual remorse for what he'd done, only a desire to stop fighting with her. He had yet to show even the slightest sign of wanting to apologize to their daughter. As such, she was not at all ready to forgive him or put an end to her passive aggressive hostility. "Prepare a plate for Rory, but don't bring it up to her."
"Lorelai…" began Christopher in a frustrated voice, both upset and annoyed that she was still geared for battle even after he'd graciously surrendered.
She ignored him and continued to address Franny. "Just keep it in the fridge. Rory can warm it up when she's ready to eat."
Christopher groaned fully believing that she was doing it just to get a rise out of him. He turned to face Franny. "Please just bring her a tray."
Franny tried to respond, but Lorelai cut her off. "Leave the plate in the fridge, Franny."
Christopher had already let her have her way that night and it had gotten him nowhere. "Why does she have to be so damn stubborn?" he thought angrily. "Why can't she just let this go?" Not only had his actions failed to pacify his wife, they seemed only to fuel her anger. Now she was just being ridiculous. He was not about to let her have her way again. "Lorelai, just let Franny bring Rory some dinner. I'm sure she's hungry and you said so yourself, Rory would hate to miss Fanny's pot roast," argued Christopher, the volume of his voice rising up a notch.
"Fine, Franny," said Lorelai in an annoyed tone. "Please do as Christopher says. Bring a dinner tray up to Rory's room."
"Thank you," muttered Christopher sarcastically.
"Although," continued Lorelai, "I don't know what good that tray will do considering Rory's not up there."
Christopher expression went blank. "Excuse me?"
Lorelai casually took a sip of her water. "Rory's not in her room," she stated matter-of-factly.
He glared at her. "What do you mean she's not in her room?"
"I mean she's not in her room." She eyed Christopher and gave him a smug smirk before adding, "Or anywhere in the house for that matter."
"Where the hell is she?"
"At the Huntzbergers."
Kevin's eyes widen in surprise and he felt a slight small sense of relief wash over him knowing Rory was with Logan.
"And just how do you know this?" asked Christopher making a conscious effort to stay calm.
Lorelai shrugged her shoulders. "Shira called to let me know she was over there. She didn't want me to worry."
Christopher took a deep breath and slowly let it out. "So this whole time you knew she wasn't up in her room?"
"Yes."
"And yet you proceeded to have this ridiculous argument with me about pot roast?"
Lorelai shrugged again.
"Why didn't you just tell me she wasn't up there?"
"Oh, I'm sorry, Christopher. Are we back to sharing information concerning our daughter?" Her voice was dripping with sarcasm. "I must have missed the memo."
"Lor…"
"You see I would have told you about Rory being at the Huntzbergers, but I thought since this bit of info involved a hunky blond that I should keep it a secret. You know, like you did," she accused.
"Lorelai, I've had just about enough of…"
"Oh God, can we just eat already," complained Kevin. "I'm dying over here."
Lorelai and Christopher sent him identical glares. Being irritated at Kevin was the first thing they'd agreed on all night.
"What?" he asked in response to their stares. "We've been sitting here for almost twenty minutes," he pointed out. "I'm starving. And let's not forget that we have a house guest," he reminded them gesturing across the table to Joanna. "You two are being very, very rude," he lectured, playfully wagging a finger at them. "Don't you think their being rude, Joanna? Aren't you hungry?"
Joanna, annoyed that he would bring her into this, looked up from her empty plate with every intention of sending him a nasty look. However, when her eyes met his, she fought the urge to smile as she recognized a playful spark in his eyes. She realized that his comments were made not because of actual hunger. Kevin was trying to get his parents to focus on something other than the fact that they were angry with each other. It was sweet, endearing even. Playing along, she said, "I am getting a bit hungry."
Kevin smiled at her before continuing to tease his parents. "Mom and Dad, shame on you for being such poor hosts…tsk, tsk. Arguing at the dinner table and making poor Joanna wait—especially after she came all the way from England to visit us. What will she think of Americans? Did you two even stop to consider how poorly you're representing our country? I mean seriously, don't you two think enough damage has been done to the credibility of this great nation of ours? Don't you think it's our patriotic duty to make the best impression that we can? To make sure Joanna goes back to England with nothing but good memories? Come on, Mom and Dad, serve the girl some pot roast. Do it for America." His face was serious but his eyes were dancing with amusement.
Joanna rolled her eyes yet had to bite her lip to keep from laughing, which became increasingly difficult after Kevin placed his right hand over his heart and began humming the opening bars of the Star Spangled Banner.
Lorelai and Christopher stared disbelievingly at their son as he continued to hum.
"And the rockets red glare," Kevin suddenly shouted taking everyone by surprise. "The bombs bursting in air."
"That's enough, Kevin," Christopher said.
"Gave proof through the night that our flag was still here," he continued.
Lorelai reached over and slapped a hand over his mouth. "Enough, Kevin."
Kevin smiled and continued to hum the final bars. Joanna's shoulders physically shook as she desperately tried to keep her laughter in.
"That's your child," said Lorelai to Christopher.
Christopher looked sheepishly at her, sending a half smile across the table. "Are you sure there wasn't some kind of mix up at the hospital?"
Lorelai shrugged in response, a slight smile playing on her lips.
Christopher and Lorelai easily saw through Kevin's antics. Nonetheless, they both looked slightly embarrassed as they turned to face their young house guest. "I'm sorry for holding up dinner, Joanna," said Lorelai. "Please don't think ill of America because of it."
"No problem, Lorelai," Joanna said. She caught Kevin's eye and smiled.
"Franny, please bring dinner out," said Lorelai. "And I apologize for all the back and forth we made you do."
"Yes, Mrs. Hayden."
"And please keep a plate in the fridge for Rory," added Christopher as he glanced briefly across the table.
Lorelai nodded at him and gave him a small smile.
Franny returned a few minutes later with the now infamous pot roast. Once dinner was served, Christopher turned to Kevin and asked, as casually as he could, "So, Kevin, how was your birthday party?"
"Yeah," said Lorelai matching Christopher's tone, "your father and I were half expecting a call from the police that night. But it never came. We were so proud of you."
The whole table laughed and the rest of dinner proceeded much more comfortably. Christopher and Lorelai even chatted pleasantly with each other, both seeming to have agreed to a temporary truce. As his parents reminisced about past visits to the Vineyard, Kevin smiled smugly to himself before brushing his foot against Joanna's and sending her a conspiratory wink. Joanna smiled in response and waited a full five seconds before tucking her feet under her chair and safely out of his reach.
Logan kept a firm grip on Rory as they raced back to the main house. Rory's sandals were more fashionable than practical and were definitely not made for running on grass during a storm. He'd already had to keep her from stumbling to the ground about a half dozen times.
Rory could see the house about fifty feet in front of her. The kid heels on her sandals kept sinking into the now rain soak ground, which made the trip back far less pleasurable than the trip out. Thankfully, Logan was there to keep her from toppling over as he pulled her along. "Are we there yet?" she shouted to him over the rain.
"Just a little further, Ace," he encouraged. The two were already drenched from head to toe having been exposed to the elements for a good ten minutes before they bothered to stop what they were doing. The image of a nearly naked Rory soaking wet from a summer storm as she writhed with pleasure beneath him was one that would haunt Logan for a very long time. He smiled happily and made a mental note to take her on a picnic the next time the weatherman predicted a storm.
Logan and Rory ran through the door leading into the kitchen. Their sudden and disheveled appearance startled two members of the Huntzberger staff who were tidying up.
"Hello," Logan greeted them with a goofy grin as he dropped the rain soaked bag and blanket on the counter.
"Hi," added Rory cheerfully making sure to keep her body hidden behind Logan's. The bright kitchen lights made her wet clothing almost entirely see through.
The two maids stared at them with wide eyes and confused expressions but before they could utter a word, Logan was pulling Rory out of the kitchen. He heard her shudder when they moved further into the air-conditioned house. "Come on, Ace. We need to get you out of those wet clothes."
"Again?" she asked in a playful voice.
Logan stopped walking to gaze into her smirking face. "I meant before you catch a cold, but if you have other ideas I would be more than happy to oblige." Recognizing the lustful spark in her eyes, he looked around to make sure the coast was clear before pulling her into a nearby closet. After locking the door behind them, he pushed her back against the door and kissed her soundly feeling her body temperature rise as he rubbed himself against her.
Rory nuzzled her face into his neck loving the smell of his cologne mixed with the scent of the storm. "I am a little cold," she whispered placing a series of kisses on his neck.
"I'll warm you up," he said confidently. Logan took great pleasure in creating friction between their bodies, his hands rubbing against her damp flesh.
"This definitely helps," she whispered. "But do you know what would be really good right now? A nice hot shower," she said in a husky tone.
Logan felt himself harden at the mere thought of taking another shower with her. It was nearly pitch black in that closet but he was able to get a glimpse of her rain soaked, see through clothing before he shut the door behind them. Logan pushed himself a bit further into her and let his right hand slide down her body and underneath her skirt. He could feel warmth radiating from her center. Tracing his tongue seductively over her ear, he ran a finger teasingly over panties.
"Logan," she moaned locking her arms around his neck to help keep her vertical.
A satisfied smirk crossed his face as he hooked his fingers into the waistband of her panties and began pushing them down. Logan lowered his lips to her neck nipping at her damp skin as he moved the silky fabric down her thighs. The material bunched around her knees and rather than pushing them off the rest of the way, he lifted his leg up and used his foot to push them down to her ankles. Logan brought his lips to hers as he, not so gently, pushed his fingers into her wet folds.
Rory gasped both surprised and pleased as Logan moved his fingers inside her. She kicked her panties off to the side, leaned her back into the door and arched her hips forward moving her body in concert with his talented fingers. Rory then hooked her right leg over his hip just as Logan's hand moved at a more rapid pace. They kissed each other desperately, both ignoring the burning in their chests as their lungs struggled for oxygen. Who would prefer breathing to kisses like these? Rory let out a staggered moan as Logan added his thumb to the mix rolling it over her clit as his fingers continued to pump within her. She was in heaven. But suddenly, he halted his movements and pulled his hand away causing Rory to let out an almost pained gasp.
"Logan?" she looked to him desperate to regain the lovely pressure that was just beginning to build within her body.
"Shh," he commanded turning his head so he ear was parallel to the door.
The faint sounds of a familiar voice could be herd through the closed door. Rory's heart raced as the voice seemed to draw closer. When she recognized it as that of Mitchum Huntzberger, she panicked imagining how disastrous it would be to be caught in such a compromising position. Instinctively, she tried to move out of Logan's grasp, but his strong arms held her exactly where she was: sandwiched between the closet door and Logan's hard body, her right leg hooked over his hip and her underwear somewhere on the closet floor.
"Don't move," he whispered calmly.
They both stood perfectly still neither even daring to breathe as Mitchum's voice grew louder. From where they stood, they could hear a one sided conversation between Mitchum and who they assumed was a business associate. From the sounds of his footsteps, Mitchum was pacing the stretch of hallway just outside the closet door. They heard him set up an early morning meeting before walking in the direction of the kitchen. Logan let out a sigh of relief as the footsteps became more and more distant.
When the footsteps were finally gone, he leaned down for a kiss and said, "Well then…where were we?"
"Logan," she protested pushing him away and trying unsuccessfully to remove her leg from around his hip. "What are you doing?"
"Picking up where we left off," he said holding her leg in place with one hand and inching the fingers of his other hand closer to where they were before the very unwanted interruption.
"But your dad," she pointed out still trying to put some space between their bodies.
"He's in the kitchen," argued Logan. His fingers reached their destination and began to tease her. "He's probably making himself a cup of his super special mint tea because that's the only time he steps foot in there." Logan smiled when he felt Rory begin to react to his ministrations. Her breathing grew heavier and she began to emit breathy moans as she welcomed his long fingers into her wet heat.
"Doesn't he have to come back this way?" she asked before her pleasure completely drowned out her worry.
"Relax," he assured her. "He's very particular about his tea. It has to be made just right or he won't drink it and apparently no one in the world can make it properly so he does it himself. That means we have a good six and a half or seven minutes before he walks back this way."
"What? Seven minutes?" she asked panting. Her thoughts were almost completely clouded by lust so despite her best efforts, she couldn't bring herself to push him away.
He smirked loving the sounds she was making. "Yeah, so what do you say to a quick round of Seven Minutes in Heaven?"
"Logan…"
"We'll have to keep quiet again when he walks back, but until then…" Logan captured her lips in a slow, seductive kiss, the kind he knew she loved.
Rory let him distract her for a few seconds before pulling her head away. "Logan, stop."
"What's the matter?"
"I don't want your dad to catch us."
"He won't," he assured her as he tried to steal another kiss. "Now relax and let me kiss you. We're running out of time."
"Logan, stop." She moved his hand away from her and somehow managed to pry her leg out of his grasp. With both feet planted firmly on the floor, she said, "Let's just wait until he goes by again."
"Why?"
"Logan," she whined.
Logan let out a frustrated groan. "Fine."
"Thank you."
"Stupid dad and his stupid tea," he muttered. "I'm adding this to my list."
"What list?"
"My list of grievances," he explained.
"You have a list of grievances? Against your father?"
"Yup. It details everything he's made me endure over the years. I plan on handing it over to him once I gain control of my trust fund."
"What exactly are you going to add?"
"That I got to third base with Rory Gilmore in the hall closet and had to stop because he needed a stupid cup of tea."
She gasped and slapped him playfully on the shoulder. "Please tell me you're joking."
He laughed. He couldn't make out her features in the dark closet, but he would bet his trust fund that she was blushing. "Of course I'm joking."
"About the list? Or about adding that to the list?"
"Both."
"So there is no list?"
"No," he said laughing. "Do you have any idea how much storage space I'd need if I was actually keeping a list? The Chilton years alone would give me enough material to fill the shelves at the Library of Congress?"
She laughed. "Your dad can't be that bad."
"When you're his son, trust me he can," insisted Logan.
Before Rory could respond, the two heard a faint shuffling coming toward them. Logan immediately pulled her body into his and held her close. He could feel her body shudder slightly from the cold. Mitchum, on his cell phone again, walked through the hallway and past the closet door. Once Logan was sure he was at a safe distance, he opened the door slowly and peaked out. "Coast is clear," he told her. He followed Rory out of the closet but before closing the door, he swooped down to grab something off the closet floor and shoved it into his pocket.
It took Rory a moment to register what he'd just done, but when she did, she turned a bright red. "Give those back," she demanded.
"Give what back?" he asked innocently his hand still in his pocket.
"Logan," she said holding her hand out, "give them back."
"Don't know what you're talking about, Ace," he answered coyly all the while fingering the silky material in his pocket.
"Logan, give me my panties back," she demanded in a hushed tone.
He smirked and for a moment, seemed to consider her request. "No," he said shaking his head. "I think I'll keep them."
"Logan…"
"Sorry, Ace, they're mine now. You're not getting them back."
"Logan…"
"Nope," he said walking away from her.
She chased him down the hall. "Logan, come on." When she caught up to him, Rory wrapped her arms around his waist hugging him from behind. She pressed her face into the back of his shoulder and said, "Logan, I can't walk around without any underwear on. Give them back. "
He chuckled but maintained his steady pace. "You seem to be walking around just fine, Ace."
"Logan…."
"And do you have any idea what knowing you have nothing on underneath that skirt is doing to me?"
"What is it doing to you?" she asked suddenly sounding very interested.
He removed one of her hands from around his waist and brought it to the front of his pants.
"Oh," said a now smiling Rory as she gave his semi-erection a light squeeze.
"Yeah, oh," he responded moving them toward the main staircase. Logan was leading them upstairs where he planned on getting them out of those wet clothes before one of them actually did get sick. If they ended up naked in the process, well then so be it. He moved her hand away from his crotch and used it to pull her up the stairs. When they reached the second floor, their smiles disappeared when the two came face to face with the last person Logan wanted to see at that moment.
"I'll call you back," Mitchum said gruffly into his cell phone. He turned his attention to the young couple taking note of their body language and joined hands.
Logan tried to read his father's face, but years of business dealings had made Mitchum far too good at keeping a his face neutral.
"Dad."
Mitchum tried to read Logan's face, but growing up amidst Hartford society had made him far too good at maintaining his poker face.
"Logan."
Silence ensued. Brown eyes met brown eyes as father and son stared at each other neither wanting to be the first to look away.
Although Mitchum could not read his son's face, he could read that of his son's companion. Rory, though schooled in the art of maintaining a society face even under the most stressful of circumstances, was noticeably rattled by the sudden encounter. She was blushing brightly and hiding as much of herself as she could behind Logan. "Rory."
"Hi, Mitchum," she said with a small smile. "We…we got caught in the rain."
He looked the two of them over. "Obviously."
She blushed even more. "Logan was just…"
"I was just going to give her something to change into before I drove her home," interjected Logan.
Mitchum eyed his son wearily. "Ok."
It was hard for Logan to miss the suspicious look in his father's eyes. He knew he was in trouble. "So…we're just gonna…" He pointed down the hall toward his bedroom, but before he could make a move in that direction, Mitchum spoke.
"Rory, why don't you go ahead to Logan's room," he said authoritatively. "I need to have a word with my son."
Rory looked into Logan's face before she dared to move. He squeezed the hand he was still holding and nodded his head letting her know it was ok. "Top left hand drawer of the dresser," he said. "There's some sweats in there you can borrow." She nodded as she reluctantly let go of his hand, crossed her arms over her chest—her clothes were still wet after all—and brushed past Mitchum as quickly as possible.
When she was safely out of earshot, Mitchum's face turned cold and he said, "My office now."
It was an order Logan was very accustomed to hearing. After all he'd heard it on a regular basis growing up and even more so as he got older. He followed his father down another hallway, one leading away from his room. Mitchum's private study was a room he'd loved as a little boy, but grew to loathe as it was his father's favorite room in which to lecture him.
"What the hell are you doing?" Mitchum asked mere seconds after the door closed behind them.
"What are you talking about?" he asked innocently, purposefully keeping his voice neutral.
"Don't get smart with me, Logan. You know exactly what I'm talking about."
Logan said nothing and out of habit stuck his hands in his pockets. When his fingers touched the silky material of Rory's panties, he had to bite the inside of his mouth to keep from smiling. "No, Dad, I don't know what you're talking about," he insisted.
Mitchum hated his son's insolence, but was quite accustomed to it. So rather than smacking him upside his head like he wanted to, he took a seat behind his massive desk and gestured for Logan to sit opposite him.
Logan was familiar with this tactic as well. Mitchum was well aware that sitting behind the antique oak desk, a desk once owned by Joseph Pulitzer, made him appear larger than life, not to mention more intimidating than he already was. Sitting across from him at that desk made Logan feel like a little boy who'd accidentally thrown a ball through a window. Still, he knew he'd done nothing wrong, at least not in his eyes or Rory's, and as such, he was determined not to let Mitchum get the better of him.
"I'm talking about what I just witnessed out in that hallway," he said his voice full of accusation.
Logan shrugged, quietly maintaining his innocence.
"What I just witnessed between you and Rory."
Logan then sat forward in his chair and stared questioningly at his father. "And what exactly do you think you just witnessed, Dad?" He was curious as to what his father was actually thinking.
Mimicking Logan's stance, Mitchum sat forward and propped his elbows on his desk, effectively making his shoulders look broader. He stared into Logan's rebellious eyes, eyes that were so much like his own it scared him, and said, "What I witnessed was you leading a sweet, young girl, one who is from two very important families, toward your bedroom for reasons I would rather not think about."
Logan raised an eyebrow at his father. He had not expected Mitchum to be quite so blunt.
"Now I've never interfered with your personal life before…"
Logan laughed out loud at the ridiculousness of that declaration.
"…but I have to draw the line somewhere and frankly Logan, it's here."
"You've never interfered with my personal life? Are you kidding?" he challenged his father. Logan was not going to let him get away with that statement.
"Have I ever said one word to you about the rather nefarious reputation you've developed?"
Logan's eyes went cold. "Have I ever said anything to you about the nefarious reputation you have?" he countered.
"Watch your mouth, boy," warned Mitchum.
"Hey you're the one that dragged me in here, Dad." Logan kept his hand in his pocket, his fingers grazing silk reminding him that there was nothing his father could do or say to change the fact that Rory was his. "What do you want from me?"
Mitchum took a deep breath to calm himself. "I want to know what's going on between you and Rory."
"Nothing."
"Don't give me that."
"It's the truth."
"You expect me to believe that?"
"I don't care if you do."
"Logan…"
"Dad, I don't owe you an explanation so believe what you want to believe. You will anyway," he shouted getting out of his seat.
"Sit down," barked Mitchum.
Logan reluctantly obeyed.
"If there's nothing going on between you and Rory, what the hell did I just witness out there?"
Logan sat back in his chair and glared at his father. "She was upset. I took her for a walk to calm her down. We walked to the lake. It started to rain. We ran back. We got soaked and rather than risk her getting sick, I offered to give her some dry clothes. And that's when we ran into you."
Mitchum listened to the narrative skeptically. "And the hand holding?"
"We were running in the rain. She kept tripping over her sandals so I grabbed her hand and pulled her along."
"How do you explain the fact that she was practically draped all over you?"
"She wasn't draped all over me," he argued. "She was hiding behind me."
"Why?"
"I don't know," he said sarcastically. "Maybe because her clothes were completely soaked through and she didn't want you to see her bra through her shirt."
Mitchum colored slightly and conceded Logan's point at the memory of Rory rushing past him with her arms crossed over her chest. "And what about you?"
"What about me?" asked Logan.
"She didn't seem to be hiding from your eyes."
"Well better me that you, Dad. Besides it's just Rory," he said as casually and as unaffected as he could despite the fact that her panties were currently residing in his pocket.
This time it was Mitchum who raised an eyebrow at him. "Just Rory?"
"Yes, just Rory."
"So you have no interest in her?"
Logan couldn't miss the challenging tone his voice. "Not in the way you're thinking. We're friends."
"Just friends?"
"Yes."
"Nothing more?"
"Nothing more."
Mitchum held his gaze, as if trying to decide what and what not to believe. He was pretty good at gauging when Logan was lying, but right now, he wasn't so sure. The tiny hint of guilt he was accustomed to seeing in his son's eyes whenever he'd done anything damaging or illegal was not there so at that moment, Mitchum didn't know what to believe. "So you're not attracted to her?"
"I didn't say that," answered Logan knowing full well that even he was not that good of a liar.
"So you are attracted to her?"
He shrugged making sure to keep his expression casual. "Can you blame me? She's gorgeous."
"But nothing's going on?"
"No," he repeated. "Nothing's going on. I would never go after Rory."
"Really?"
"Are you kidding? Besides the fact that Kevin and Christopher would literally fight over which one them got to be the one to kill me, I would never do anything to hurt Rory."
Mitchum saw the sincerity in Logan's eyes when he spoke those words. He wasn't lying about that.
"And let's face it she can do a whole lot better than me."
Mitchum was surprised at that statement. Logan was never the self-deprecating type. He knew then that Logan was telling the truth and for a moment, he almost felt sorry for his son.
"Come on, Dad, get real. A girl like her shouldn't be with…with a guy like me," he said with a touch of sadness in his voice, something that Mitchum did not miss.
He nodded, forcefully pushing all disturbing images out of his mind. "I didn't mean to accuse you of anything."
Logan let out a small sigh of relief.
"It's just that Rory is...a very sweet girl. And I would hate to see her get hurt."
Logan knew he should have kept his mouth shut, but he couldn't help himself. He couldn't help but take offense to what his father had just implied. "And you're so sure I would hurt her." It was a statement not a question.
"I didn't say that."
"You didn't have to," muttered Logan getting out of his seat. He was used to his father thinking the worst of him, and although he would never admit it to anyone, not even to Kevin, it still hurt.
"Logan," began Mitchum in a slightly gentler tone. "Sit down."
This time he didn't obey. "I have to go, Dad. I want to change my clothes before I get sick."
"Logan, sit down," ordered Mitchum.
He didn't sit, but he didn't leave either. Instead, he just stood there in his rain soaked clothing staring at his father.
Mitchum couldn't help but think of how young Logan looked right then. There was vulnerability in his eyes that he could only describe as childlike. But just as quickly as it appeared, it vanished and what was left was the cold, indifferent gaze of his nineteen year old son. "All I meant was…a passing infatuation is not worth ruining a lifelong friendship—with Rory or with her family."
Logan wasn't sure what he upset him more, the fact that his father called his feelings for Rory a passing infatuation or the fact that his father didn't seem to think him capable of anything other than passing infatuations. Either way, he wanted out of this conversation and out of that room. "I know, Dad," he asserted.
"And I would hate to cause any damage to the decades of friendship our family has enjoyed with the Gilmores and the Haydens."
And there it was—the famous 'do not tarnish the precious Huntzberger name' argument. "I know that too, Dad."
"Good," said Mitchum standing up out of his chair. "Well now that we've settled that, why don't you go change your clothes and check on Rory. You're mother called Lorelai to let her know she was here so there's no rush to take her home. She's welcome to stay as long as she likes—just not in your bedroom, Logan."
Logan nodded and turned to leave. He was reaching for the doorknob when Mitchum addressed him again.
"Logan."
"What?"
"What was she so upset about?"
"What?"
"Rory," clarified Mitchum. "You said she got into a fight with Kevin and then Christopher. What about?"
Logan saw this as a golden opportunity to lay to rest any of his father's remaining suspicions regarding the nature of his relationship with Rory. "Her boyfriend from London is in Hartford. They don't like him." It was the truth, at least in part.
Mitchum nodded seemingly satisfied with that response. Rory having boyfriend squashed any fears he may have had about Rory and Logan's relationship. "I've got to make some calls," he said pulling out his cell phone. He'd already switched into business mode and Logan took that opportunity to make his escape.
Back at the Hayden's, the dinner plates were being cleared and Kevin and Joanna were heading to the family room to relax and watch a movie. Christopher and Lorelai, on the other hand went outside to have a glass of wine on the patio. It was something they did often, an after dinner drink just the two of them. However, this time it wasn't so they could be alone as a couple. It was so they could be alone to finish the argument they'd put on hold. The temporary truce did little to reduce anger on either side and the argument soon turned into a fight.
"What Kevin and I did was perfectly justifiable," shouted Christopher.
"Maybe in your twisted minds," countered Lorelai, "but us here, in the land of the sane, consider what you two did idiotic, irrational, ridiculous, not to mention the fact that it was a complete violation of Rory's privacy. I mean seriously reading personal and private messages from your daughter's ex-boyfriend! What kind of parent does that? I'll tell you what kind, Chris. The disrespectful kind. Like my mother. That was so something my mother would have done. You totally pulled an Emily Gilmore."
"You take that back," ordered Christopher, clearly very insulted by that comparison.
"No."
"I can't believe you. You did not just compare me to your mother."
"Hey if the Chanel suit fits," she replied flippantly.
"Take it back, Lor."
Lorelai remained defiant. Sitting back in her chair, she shook her head and crossed her arms over her chest.
"What I did, I did for the sake of my daughter, our daughter. It certainly does not warrant a comparison to Emily Gilmore."
"Oh please, Christopher. You know very well that what you did is exactly the type of crap that my mother used to pull on me…the type of crap that used to drive me, no us crazy. And had my mother done something like this to me when we were Rory's age, you would have been the first to start yelling. You would have been just as disgusted with her as I am with you right now, as disgusted as I'm sure our daughter is with you."
Christopher's stubborn expression faulted as his mind momentarily considered what his wife had just said. He knew in his heart that Lorelai was right. How he handled the situation with Tristan is exactly how his mother-in-law would have handled it. He felt his stomach churn. He and Lorelai swore to themselves many years ago, when they found out she was pregnant with Kevin, that they would never treat their children the way their parents' treated them. For a moment he felt ashamed. But only for a moment. Despite how hypocritical it might be, Christopher did not regret his decision. He did not feel any remorse for what he'd done because he believed that his duty, first and foremost, was to protect his daughter. "I'm a good father, Lorelai," he said with an almost pained expression.
"I never said you weren't," replied Lorelai in a much softer tone.
"She's my little girl. I would do anything for her."
"I know that, Chris, but sometimes the right thing to do is just to stay out of it. Rory's a big girl now." Her expression softened when she saw his expression had gone from anger to sadness.
"We missed a lot," he said sadly.
"What?"
"While she was in London. We missed a lot."
"We missed watching her study for hours and hours," she said in a joking tone.
He chuckled happy that he could no longer hear any anger in her voice. "Yes, but not just that. You didn't get to help her get ready for her first date. I didn't get to scare the hell out the guy."
Lorelai laughed.
"We missed a lot, Lor."
Lorelai remained silent as she seemed to contemplate that.
"Did you ever think we were wrong…letting her go to London?"
Lorelai moved to the chair beside his and rested her hand on his arm. "Only every day for the first semester."
"And now?"
"Now, I know we did the right thing letting her go."
Christopher looked over at her, surprise written all over his face. "And just how do you know that?"
"Have you looked at her lately? She's smart, funny, confidant, mature…everything I always knew she was and more than I ever thought she could be."
Christopher smiled proudly knowing his daughter was indeed all of those things.
"We did miss a lot. And I'll always be sorry that I'll never get some of those moments back, but I don't regret our decision. Letting Rory go to London may not have been the right decision for us, but it was the right decision for her, Chris."
He nodded. "How did you get to be so smart?" he teased.
"It's in the genes, baby."
Christopher pulled her to him and kissed her softly. "I love you, Lor."
She buried her face in his neck breathing in his scent. "I love you too, Chris."
"I really hate fighting with you."
"Well, I'm not a big fan of it either."
"I'm sorry about keeping that from you. I was only doing what I thought was best for Rory."
"Yes, and as misguided as you were," she began, "I suppose if I think really hard I can see you're reasoning. Four years is a long time. She was away for a long time so I guess I can't entirely blame you for going overboard on the whole 'protective daddy' thing."
"Thank you."
"As long as you apologize to Rory, I guess I can find it in my heart, my oh so generous heart, to forgive you as well."
Christopher sighed and pulled her closer to him. "While I still believe that my actions were justifiable considering the circumstances, I am very sorry for upsetting both you and Rory. And I guess I can see how what I did could constitute an invasion of privacy."
"An invasion of Emily Gilmore proportions," she added.
"If I agree to apologize to Rory, will you stop comparing me to your mother?"
"Hmm…I guess I can do that," she said.
"Ok then," he agreed kissing her cheek. "What time should I expect our daughter to come home?"
"Well," said Lorelai with a playful sparkle in her eyes, "she and Logan are making up right now, so it could be a while before she gets back."
"Oh geez, Lor," he whined. "I did not need that image in my head."
She laughed heartily at his pained face.
"You know it seems to me that you and I have some making up of our own to do," she informed him.
Christopher's eyes brightened instantly. "What the hell are we doing out here then?" he asked before pulling them back into the house and upstairs to their bedroom.
Logan walked into his room to find Rory lounging on his bed a book opened in her lap. She was wearing a pair of his sweat pants, which were at least three sizes too big, and one of his Yale t-shirts. When he entered the room, she didn't look up immediately, but rather finished the paragraph she was reading before turning her eyes to him. He smiled the second their eyes met. There was something so right about her wearing his clothes and being in his bed.
"How'd it go?" she asked.
"It went," he answered cryptically. Logan moved to his dresser and pulled out a change of clothes for himself. He walked over to the bed carrying them, kicked off his shoes and sat down.
Without asking, Rory pulled his wet shirt off his body and hugged him to her. Logan felt instantly warmer as she kissed her way up and down his exposed torso. He let her push him off the bed and strip him of his pants and his boxers. Rory then grabbed a towel from his bathroom and patted him dry. She took her time dressing him, an act that some how seemed more intimate than undressing him. She guided him into his boxers and then his pants before pulling him onto his bed. Rory purposefully neglected to put on the shirt he'd brought over, as she preferred the feeling of his bare chest against her skin. They laid in bed, his back against the pillows and her body half on top of him, in silence enjoying each other's warmth.
"Does he know about us?" Rory whispered quietly.
Logan repositioned them so that their faces were almost touching. "He suspected, but I think I threw him off track."
"Really? How?"
"I told him that while I found you unbelievably attractive," he paused in order to admire her blush. "I wasn't interested in you in the romantic sense."
"Really?" she asked looking slightly offended.
"I also told him that there was no way a guy like me could ever get a girl as amazing as you," he flattered.
"Aww…really?"
He tilted his head forward and kissed her nose. "Yes, really. And I can not tell you how hard it was to keep a straight face while denying there was anything going on between us especially since your panties were in my pocket."
Rory slapped him on the arm but laughed as she settled herself more comfortably in his arms. "Are you ok?"
"Yeah why?"
"I don't know. You seem…off."
He kissed her cheek oddly comforted by how well she could already read him. "I'm ok. Just being alone in a room with him...it always throws me a little."
Rory wrapped her body around him. "I'm sorry."
"Don't be. You didn't do anything."
"I'm sorry you're upset."
He kissed her head and pulled her body on top of his. "I'm not upset now. Right now I am the exact opposite of upset."
"You're un-upset?" she asked playfully.
He smiled in that certain way that made his eyes twinkle, a smile that seemed to be only for her. "Yes, I am un-upset."
"Well good, because I wanted to talk to you about something," she said her voice sounding somewhat grave.
Logan looked up at her face and saw that her expression held no trace of the amusement that was there just a second ago. "Sounds serious."
"It is."
He took a deep breath wanting to be prepared for whatever she was about to tell him. "Go ahead, Ace."
"I wanted to talk to you about…" She stopped.
"About?"
"Um…I wanted to talk to you about…sex."
His eyes widened in surprise. "You want to talk about sex?"
"Umm…yeah." Rory was completely embarrassed but determined to have this conversation.
"What about sex?" he prodded.
She bit down on her lip and nervously twirled her hair. "About…having…it. About us having it."
They were alone in his room. She was lying on top of him, wearing his clothes and he knew for a fact she wasn't wearing anything under those sweat pants. Logan tried not to get too excited, but he could already feel all the blood leaving his brain to head south. "You want to talk about us having sex?" he asked.
"Yes, well…outside, in the rain, I wanted you to….and I thought that you might…that we might have…but then you didn't."
"You wanted me to?" he asked.
She looked into his eyes and nodded. "Yes. I wanted you to."
"Oh."
"Why didn't you?"
"Honestly, I almost did. I wanted to so much."
"But you stopped. And I'm not saying I didn't thoroughly enjoy what you did instead…"
He smiled. "But part of you was disappointed that we didn't." It wasn't a question.
"I wanted to," she admitted. "I wanted you."
"I wanted you too, Ace. And how I stopped myself, I'll never know, but why I stopped…well there were a few reasons."
"Such as?"
"Today was…intense. And not just for you, for me too. Between the fight and the police station and seeing you with him…I don't know. The day felt a little…tainted. And the day shouldn't be tainted. I want you to be able to look back on it and remember nothing but me…and us. Not the police. Not our fight. And definitely not Tristan."
She nodded seeing some reasoning in that argument.
"And then you showed up here and everything was great again and we were outside and you told me how you felt about me all these years. You have no idea how amazing that made me feel, Ace. And not just from a purely egotistical point of view," he added, "although it did do wonders for my ego."
She laughed and kissed his lips. "I didn't think it was possible for your ego to be improved upon."
"Hey I didn't think so either, Ace, but you made it happen."
They both laughed.
"The point is," he continued. "I never thought that anyone who knew me as well as you did could still feel that way about me. Most people don't know me well enough to not like me." He paused. "Does that make sense?"
"Yes," she said nodding. "I know exactly what you mean. It's easy for people, who don't really know you, to like you," she explained, "especially since you come in such pretty packaging."
He smiled at her teasing voice.
"But it's a lot harder for someone to like you when they really know you," she continued. "Cause it means they have to accept everything about you, even your faults—the good and the bad."
He nodded. That's exactly what he meant. He loved that she just got that—that she got him. "I love that you felt that way about me for so long. I don't know why you did because Lord knows I didn't do anything to deserve it." He paused again. "I stopped…I stopped because I thought that you deserved better for your first time than outside on a cold blanket."
Her heart melted.
"And not just because it would have been your first time, but because it would have been our first time. You deserved more. When it happens, I want to make it perfect for you."
"Perfect?"
"Yeah, you know…comfortable bed, roaring fire, champagne, flowers, chocolate, candles, fireworks…you know, the works."
Rory treated him to a slow, lingering kiss, one that left him completely breathless. "I love that you want to do all that for me, Logan, but honestly, I don't need any of it. Well except for the comfortable bed part…and maybe the chocolate."
He smiled. "Duly noted. Carry chocolate with me at all times."
"I just meant that the only thing that I need to make my first time perfect is that it's with you."
"Oh, Ace." His heart melted. "What am I going to do with you?"
They lost themselves in another slow, passionate kiss, one that expressed all they were feeling for each other.
When Rory pulled away, she looked deeply into his eyes and said, "So just so you know… I'm ready to…you know."
"Ok." Logan didn't know what else to say. He could not remember ever being so happy and yet so nervous and unsure of himself.
"So…"
"So…"
"So...now you know."
"Yeah…now I know."
"So should we plan something?"
"Why don't you let me take care of it," he said quietly.
"Is that what you want?"
"Yeah," he answered. "Like I said I want to make it perfect for you."
"You don't have to…"
"But I want to, Ace. I'll plan something special for you…for us. I want to."
"Ok," she agreed.
"Ok."
"So…good talk."
"Yeah…good talk."
"What do we do now?" she asked nervously.
"Well we could go watch a movie or something," he offered, "unless you want to go home."
"No, it's not that late. I don't want to go home yet."
"Ok, well…we should probably get out of here, my room I mean, before my Dad decides to check on us. Wouldn't want him getting all suspicious again."
"Oh, right," she agreed suddenly remembering that they were at his house and that his parents were both home. She reluctantly got off him. "I should probably call home."
"No need," he informed her. "My mom called your mom so you can stay as long as you want. They know you're here."
"Oh," she said surprise evident in her voice. "That was very considerate of her."
"Yeah," he said getting off the bed and pulling on the shirt that still lay neatly folded on his bed.
Rory pouted at him expressing her unhappiness at having the lovely view she had of his chest removed. He laughed when he saw her face and pulled her toward the door. "Come on, Ace. I'll let you pick the movie."
Her eyes lit up. "Have you ever seen The Goonies?"
"No."
"Oh, you poor, poor, boy."