Okay, I won't lie. I'm a little nervous about posting this chapter. The pressure to write something
good increased greatly after reading the FANTASTIC reviews for last chapter. Thank you so much! Especially to JoPoGirlsKickAss and numberonefanxox for telling me it was my best chapter yet, and SassyAni – for always reading and reviewing everything I write. You girls rock and to all: thank-you-thank-you-thank-you!And now, chapter 14… It was a hard one to write and I hope I manged to keep the flow between present and past as fluent as possible. As you might have guessed by the title, "Worth the Wait", this chapter is pretty M-worthy. Now, I haven't changed the rating, since I don't think one chapter, with sort of laidback M Scenes (you've seen worse in Gossip Girl) in a relatively innocent story qualifies changig the whole story into an M-rating (which I will do, if you want me to). I've marked the more "emmier" parts, so feel free to scroll through. That being said, I thought it was important to showcase a little bit of Rory and Logan's physical relationship, as this story spends so much time talking about the emotional side of their story. Let me know how it turned out!
Earnestly awaiting your reviews,
Gilmoregirl19
PS: I do not own Gilmore Girls.
PPS: I tried to base most of the travel stuff on real life places, names, etc. I don't own any of this either. I've been to Paris, though and it rocked. Feel free to PM if you want to know more :)
PPS: Though a brunette, I have nothing against blondes!
The second year of college was remarkably different for Rory. Instead of turning away disgusted at the sight of Logan with his arm casually slung around Next-In-Line from the Crew of Blondes, she couldn't help but look at him with love as it was her that his arm encircled. And, instead of being the one shooting evil glares at the Crew, she was on the receiving end of such looks as she was the one who effectively took Yale's Most Eligible Bachelor off the market.
Not that this stopped the Crew of Blondes and the rest of Yale's female population. A new line was readily formed and waiting to be put into motion, as soon as Rory and Logan broke it off. Of course, these girls never knew that Logan was never as eligible as he led them to believe, and those girls lacked the long-term thinking ability to ask about plans for the next night, let alone his 'future'.
But, apart from the Logan-Chasing-Rory-Hating girls at Yale, it was clear to everyone that Rory and Logan shared something special. In Logan's mind (and that of their friends) there was no competition. She comforted him after fights he had with his father, he made her chicken noodle soup and mashed potatoes when she had the flu. They read the morning paper together over a shared pot of coffee and Logan's expertly cooked bacon. Logan laughed as Rory analyzed the political cartoons and Rory teased him for reading Arts and Entertainment first. They partied at The Pub every so often, but they mostly preferred to watch movies in bed, or head out for dinner and talk about everything from Finn's drinking abilities to micro-economics until closing time.
On the surface, everything seemed simple. However, in Rory's case, it never was.
"We're here!" Rory exclaimed happily as she stood on platform 1 at Paris's Gare du Nord. She smiled broadly at him as he put the two roller bags down on the platform. "I can't believe we've never been to Paris!"
He nodded. It was indeed astonishing that throughout all their travels they had never graced the French capitol with their presence. He pulled Rory in for a lingering hug and kiss amid the busyness of the station. He was glad that they had had (part of) The Talk during the train ride over; it had been a little awkward to reveal such personal details of their relationship to a half-full train car of eager ears, but at least now, Logan and Rory got a completely fresh start in Paris. The fact that neither had been here before only underscored that.
"Ready pour Paris, Ace?" he asked. She nodded eagerly and grabbed one of the roller bags, "Lead the way, babe!"
The pair made their way down the long escalator, taking in the hustle and bustle of the station. "Oh," Rory pointed, "A bookshop…" she looked up at him, wistfully.
He smiled at her, knowing exactly what she was playing at. "Now, Ace, whatever would you need in there?"
She swatted his chest playfully, "A travel guide to Paris, of course!"
He threw his head back in heartfelt laughter. "Touché, Ace. Touché."
"Ouch!"
Logan immediately broke the trail of kisses he had been placing randomly on Rory's neck. "What?"
Rory rubbed the back of her head, looking rather annoyed, "Damn Halloween wreath."
They had just returned from a wonderful dinner. Logan decided that tonight, he would take Rory out to celebrate the fact that they both got through the first month of school without too much damage. He knew Rory was stressed-out about the increased workload and the death stares she had been receiving from the girls he used to associate himself with. And, he missed her. Even though they lived in the same house, between college, a jam-packed social calendar and keeping up society appearances they barely had time for each other.
Logan had taken Rory to a hole-in-the-wall Italian Restaurant, knowing that she would hate a five-star restaurant, where they risked running into a precious member of Society. Customary in their relationship, they shared a giant plate of spaghetti with meatballs and since it was somewhat of an anniversary Rory ordered an extra meatball to freeze. During the short walk home, they kept exchanging glances and approaching their door, the glances had turned into a kiss, which quickly turned into a full-fledged make-out session, with Rory's hair entangled in the Halloween wreath she had insisted on hanging up.
Logan suppressed a smile and pulled her into a hug and gently rubbed the back of her scalp.
"Making out in a doorway is not as romantic as it seems," she said, subconsciously letting her hands run up and down Logan's back.
"You live and learn, Ace," Logan said and Rory knew he was smiling.
She pulled back, and indeed met his smiling face. She stuck her hand in his coat pocket, found the key and stuck it in the door, "Let's find someplace more comfortable then!"
He laughed as she looked back, "Grab my meatball, please."
"Dirty," Logan smirked as he picked up the almost-forgotten meatball of the cold stone walkway.
(M)
Two hours later, the couple found themselves in the Prestige Suite of the Ritz. Logan was busy checking a few e-mails, making sure his little escapade didn't do too much damage to HPG. Meanwhile, Rory was engaged in her reading. 'Babe, did you know that the name Paris derives from that of its first inhabitants, a group known as the Parisii?"
Logan looked up and smiled, "No, I did not." But, Rory was already flipping through the pages of her tour guide. Logan watched for a moment as Rory took a page of in-suite stationary and started making a list of things to see, things to do, place to eat and get presumably good coffee.
"Question," Rory asked suddenly, just as Logan was logging-off.
"Shoot," he replied, making his way over to the giant bed, she lied sprawled out on.
"How long did you plan on staying?" She tried to sound casual, but Logan knew it was a question that rested heavily on her mind, since he hadn't even specified the length of the London trip.
He looked down at the bed. It was covered with balled up pieces of paper and open books. On the nightstand he saw a few pieces carefully folded and he knew that Rory had mapped out their itinerary. And, knowing Rory's tiny handwriting plus her incredible ability to plan everything to a T, he knew that she at easily mapped out two-weeks of Paris fun.
He let himself fall onto the bed, propping his head up with his right hand. "If we can swing it, a week…"
He paused as her eyes lit up and she leaned in and kissed him. He pulled back, quickly and smirking, 'Well, for that. Maybe two!"
She rolled her eyes and was about to say something, but his tender kiss silenced her. She marveled at his ability to turn the situation around so quickly. What started out as a simple kiss turned into a full-fledged make-out-like-we-are-teenagers-make-out-session! She felt Logan's hand run through her hair as his kisses moved away from her mouth, and down a little to her neck.
She loved how he remembered that this was one of her favorite spots to be kissed. It had been forever since his lips made contact there. They still slept together throughout their marital crisis, but then it was always quick and strictly business. No music, no candles, no dates or dinners. It was more for stress-relief than an act of love.
She felt his hand move to under her shirt, tickling her back and moving around to her breast, all while he continued to give some much needed attention to her neck. He traced the lace of her purple bra with his finger tip.
She responded by kissing him and running her hands up and down his back, and under his shirt. He broke off the kiss for a moment, allowing her to pull the shirt over his head, sending their makeshift itinerary flying around the room as she tossed Logan's shirt on the ground.
She laughed lightly as she fell back, expecting to hit the comforter, instead his strong hand gently guided her head to a feathery pillow. She let him to do most of the work, allowing him to kiss her in forgotten places and taking off her boots, shirt and pantyhose in the process. Her bare leg was twisted around his khaki-pant clad one, while he moved his hand once more, from her breasts to her inner thigh.
Rory's stomach flip-flopped as his hand familiarly drew abstract shapes on her porcelain skin, but a sudden nervousness washed over her as she thought about what was to come.
She had promised herself not to sleep with him until she was sure with was in love with him again. Sure, these past few days had been marvelous, but was it love? How did she know for sure? On the other hand, she was a grown woman, one who had sex with Logan countless times before….
Her thought process stopped as she felt his kisses move further southward, and his left hand feeling around for the zipper of her skirt as his right hand brushed her purple panties.
"Logan!"
The sound of her own voice startled her as she hadn't dreamed of uttering his name in such a tone during activities like this. She sighed inwardly; perhaps her heart really wasn't in it. Perhaps her heart was holding out until after those three all too important words were spoken.
(M)
At times like this, Rory hated that her brain was constantly analyzing the world around her. She felt Logan's hand run through her hair and felt him kiss her. She kissed back, wrestling briefly with his tongue, thanking herself silently for not ordering a side of garlic bread.
She felt her stomach flip-flop as his kisses moved down a little, to her neck, where she loved to be kissed. She felt his hand move to under her shirt, tickling her back and moving around to her breast, all while he gave some much needed attention to her neck. He traced the fabric of her pink-and-white striped bra with his finger tip.
She didn't flinch, as she would have done with Tristan. She didn't push his hand back, or tell him to stop. It was Logan. She laughed as she fell back, expecting to hit the comforter, instead his strong hand gently guided her head to a pillow. He pulled his shirt over his head, giving her full view of his hard-earned six-pack.
She smiled as she not-so-subtly eyed him and he smiled back, his ego boosted, before continuing with his trail of kisses and massages. She let her hands roam free on his back, but he was doing all of the work. She allowed him to remove her shirt, boots and pantyhose. Her bare leg was twisted around his khaki-pant clad one, while moved his hand once more, from her breasts to her inner thigh.
Rory's stomach flip-flopped again, as this was relatively untouched territory. She enjoyed the touch of his right hand tracing abstract shapes on her porcelain skin, but a sudden nervousness washed over her for what was about to come. She felt his kisses move even further southward, stopping just before the top of her skirt, which hung low on her hips. She felt his other hand search for the zipper, as his right hand came dangerously close to her Victoria's Secret striped bikini bottom.
"Logan!"
The sound of her strained voice was enough to bring him back to reality. He retracted his hand quickly, as if he had been touching some highly flammable substance instead of his girlfriend of nearly five months.
He didn't speak as rolled onto the bed, propping his head up with his hand, using his other to brush her cheek quickly. It all seemed so innocent, considering what those hands had been up to a few minutes ago.
"What's wrong, Ace?" he asked. He sighed inwardly; of course he knew Rory treated sex differently than the girls he had been with. That's why she had only kissed one other boy in her life, where as Logan had been far more intimate with a great deal of the Yale female population. With them, it was always quick and strictly business. No music, no candles, no dates or dinners. He never felt bad, since he knew that these girls knew what they signed up for. He didn't care about them, and they did not care about him. Sure, they cared about his Black Card and putting their drinks on his tab, but that was where it ended.
What's more, Logan knew that Rory's relationship with Tristan had severely damaged her self-confidence and willingness. He never pressured her, as he knew where she was coming from. Nevertheless, he couldn't hide the fact that for longer than he cared to admit, he was ready to take their relationship to the next level.
(M)
The sound of her strained voice was enough to bring him back to reality. Being the perfect gentleman, he stopped immediately, though he was curious as to what brought on her reaction. Weren't they making progress?
He didn't speak, and he assumed the same position as before, propping his head up with his hand.
"What's wrong, Ace?"
"Sorry," she swallowed, looking away embarrassed. She felt incredibly guilty for trying to initiate an afternoon tryst and not following through with it.
He knew exactly what she was thinking and kissed her bare shoulder gently. "Don't worry, Ace. Your rules, remember?"
She shot him a soft smile, remembering how understanding he was. She bobbed her head, looking for something to say.
"It's just not the right time," she leaned back into him, catching the look on his face.
"Soon," she promised him.
(M)
"I'm sorry," she sighed and looked away. She was embarrassed, as she had seen and felt the lust that rushed through him.
"Don't be," he shot her a playful smile, "You're in control, remember?"
Logan had been so patient with her and she knew it must be hard for him to go from constant action to a girl who flinched as soon as things got a little heated.
She nodded, "I know. It's just…"
"What?" he said and absentmindedly placed a kiss on her bare shoulder. He smiled to himself at the contradiction that lay before him. Here was Rory letting their psychical relationship develop only by baby steps, yet she had no qualms about sleeping in the same bed as him, or lying here, next to him, clad in a short skirt and bra.
She sat up; debating whether if this was the time to talk to him about this. She had discussed this at great length with Lane and Stephanie over grilled sandwiches and iced coffees but never with Logan. It was easier to for to have him think that Tristan was responsible for her unwillingness.
"Don't freak-out about this," he said as he sat up and his gaze met hers. He paused, "I'm not Tristan."
Logan was lying on the bed, carefully reading Rory's mapped-out itinerary as she flipped through the French TV-channels. He looked up, noticing that she stopped at a French-dubbed episode of Friends.
"Chandler does not sound half as funny in French," Rory said, scrunching up her nose as she turned to Logan.
"Maybe that's because you don't speak French," Logan suggested with a wink. "You do realize we'll have to get up at 6:00 in the morning to complete all the things on your list for tomorrow, right?" he asked, holding up the fancy Ritz stationary.
"It's not that much," Rory said, taking the paper from him. "Breakfast, Eifel Tower, The Louvre, Cruise along the Seine and Arc de Triomphe , the Champs-Elysees, Sacré Coeur and climbing the Steps of Montmartre…"
Logan snatched the paper back from her, "Yes, and that's just in the morning, Ace!"
"Well," she sighed a little, "Who knows when we are going to come back? And, you are being very evasive about our time frame here…"
"I know, Ace," he pressed a quick kiss on her forehead, "But, I promise you that we'll be back."
Rory shot him a warm smile; she knew she had over packed their schedule and, frankly, she did not feel like running around trying to see all the sights. She was here to be with Logan.
Just then, Rory's cell phone buzzed loudly to the classic tune of N* Sync's 'Bye, bye, bye'.
Rory laughed at the disproving look that appeared on Logan's face as she scrambled to get her phone.
"It's Lane," Rory shrugged happily as if that explained everything.
"How's London?" Lane asked upon answering.
"Uh," Rory chuckled softly, "I'm sure London's fine…"
"Oh, don't tell me you are at some airport waiting for your return flight home," she sighed, "Tell me that you at least had the decency to take the jet!"
Rory was slightly taken aback at Lane's sudden conclusion, hadn't Rory told Lane everything was going swimmingly the last time they chatted?
"Actually, we are in the Prestige Suite at the Ritz now," she couldn't help but sound a tiny bit smug, "In Paris."
Lane let out a hearty laugh, "Oh my god, Rory! That's great!"
Rory listened to Lane go on about how wonderful it all was, as she watched Logan roll off the bed and get up. She placed her hand over the mouthpiece, "Where are you going?"
"I'll be right back, Ace," he winked, before leaving the suite. "Just going to get some ice-cream."
"Rory, are you still there?" Lane asked.
"Yeah, Logan just stepped out to get some ice-cream."
Lane was silent for a beat. "Are you guys going to do something dirty?"
"No," Rory exasperated, silently wishing that she was.
(M-ish)
Rory noticed he spoke Tristan's name with utter disgust and she realized it was time to open up to him. She searched his eyes for any signs of doubt, but all she saw was warmth.
"I know."
He nodded, waiting for her to continue.
'Okay,' she inhaled deeply, "it's not that I'm not attracted to you, because I am."
He let out a loud laugh, as it was the last thing he had been expecting to hear. "Good to know, Ace!"
Blushing slightly, she rolled her eyes as she waited for him to regain his composure before continuing seriously, "It's just that, what if it ruins everything?"
He knew what she was feeling as the exact sentiment had flashed through his mind before. "I think we are pretty much past that stage, Ace. If a prearranged marriage announcement didn't do us in…"
"You don't know that," she interjected, "What if it turns out I'm really bad at sex, Logan?"
His eyes grew wide as he wondered how that thought had crossed her mind. Didn't she realize the effect she had on him?
"Don't look at me like that," she commanded lightly, "I don't know, Logan!"
She grew quiet for a moment and suddenly became very interested in the pale blue comforter. "It's not like I've had practice," she said softly.
He sighed and wrapped his arms around her. "Take it from me, Ace," he whispered in her ear, "You're a natural"
She didn't seem to hear him as she continued, "And then, we have sex and it sucks…" she swallowed hard, as she turned to look at him once more, "and now, you are disappointed and you decide it wasn't worth it."
"Hey," he quipped, "What if you decide it wasn't worth it?"
She shot him a soft smile, appreciating that he seemingly managed to make this situation far less dire than it seemed in Rory's mind. "You know what I mean, babe."
He smiled, as this was something she'd never called him before, "Babe?"
She shrugged, "I like it."
"Me too," he leaned in and kissed her, careful not to let himself get too carried away.
After a while, she broke it off and got off the bed to exchange her half-dressed state for her comfy PJ bottoms and light green camisole.
"I'm starving, Ace!"
She laughed and pointed to the silver platter holding empty ice cream bowls, "Babe, you just had ice-cream."
"Hours ago!" he exaggerated and took her list from the nightstand. "Why isn't there anything on this here plan about dinner?!"
She playfully frowned at him, before taking the paper from him, and scanning her perfect script in search of the words that would prove him wrong. To her dismay he was right. No restaurant suggestions or references to food guides. Not even a mention of food.
"I guess I forgot," she said hesitantly, flipping the paper over, just to make sure she hadn't overlooked anything.
"Huh," he said, gently taking the stationary from her and putting it on the bedside table. "Well, what are you in the mood for?"
Rory flopped over on her stomach, realizing that she was still in a relative state of undress. "I don't feel like getting dressed."
Logan smirked, "Well, that severely limits our dining choices for this evening."
The couple ended up ordering a cart full of room-service specialties and their favorite movies, dubbed horribly in French.
"Finn asked if we were up to something dirty," Rory said upon returning with two bowls, spoons, ice cream and a can of whipped cream.
"What did you say?" Logan asked.
Rory rolled her eyes and shrugged, still feeling a little guilty that she couldn't yet give herself to Logan.
"One-track mind, that boy," Logan laughed, as he muted the episode of 'Cops'.
Rory smiled, as she quickly made two sundaes and climbed into bed next to Logan. He wrapped his arm around and she looked up, meeting his gaze. "You know I love you, right?"
The following morning started early, just like Logan predicted, with the couple trying to hit as many sights on Rory's list. They spent the whole time taking pictures and soaking in the City's awesome vibe.
"Paris is great," Rory said, looking like quite the Parisian, enjoying a croissant and café au lait at a little sidewalk café with Logan.
"It really is," he said, taking a sip of his own coffee, "But that's only because of you."
She blushed at his compliment and quickly consulted his list. "Okay, the Louvre is next."
(M)
Rory and Logan were back at school after Winter Break. They had yet again disappointed a whole group of young women by returning still very much in love.
"I can't believe that professor," Logan exclaimed, "He gave me a B!"
"Well," Rory shrugged, "If you spent more time studying and less time looking at my…" she suggestively looked down, eying her own chest, earning laughs from Stephanie and Lane and funny looks from Colin and Finn. The men knew that something changed Rory over Christmas Break, but they couldn't quite put their finger on it yet.
He quickly looked away and coughed, which caused Rory to laugh. He quickly pulled her in closer and whispered in her ear making sure their friends couldn't hear, "Could you stop that? You'll get me arrested for indecent behavior or something!"
She shot him a mock-innocent look, as she knew full-well what effect she had on him. She had discovered that over Christmas Break, on a secluded island off the Greek coast. And that wasn't even her Christmas present. No, that was a beautiful sapphire pendant necklace that matched her ring perfectly.
He smirked as moved his hand away from the small of her back, brushing her rear, before encircling her waist. Rory let out a barely audible moan at his unexpected touch. She flushed an adorable shade of pink. Two could play that game.
Rory suddenly slowed her pace, letting Colin, Stephanie, Finn and Lane walk-on. "What are you doing, Ace? We've got a 3:00 pm Econ lecture,"
"Is that so?" she asked, walking away from the lecture hall and towards her favorite coffee stand.
"From Richard!" Logan exasperated as they took their place in line. Richard Gilmore was a strict professor; one who did not tolerate tardiness, or coffee, for that matter, in his lectures.
"He forwarded me the lecture to make sure it was hip-to-the-cool-crowd or something, we're not missing a thing" she waved Logan's concerns away, "Don't you remember the e-mails in Greece?"
He shook his head and shot her a telling look, "I had other things on my mind in Greece."
She bit her lip subconsciously at the thought but the rude cough of the barista brought her back from her R-rated flashback.
"What do you want?"
Logan did not recognize the blonde trollop that manned the cart, but Rory did. She was Next-In-Line, and by her appearance she thought she had a shot. He shot a disapproving look at the barista. He knew the girl was being extraordinarily rude towards Rory, so he protectively placed his arm around her shoulder, "Get what you want, Ace."
She smiled back at him and ordered a variety of coffees. She noticed that as she spoke, Next-In-Line openly ogled Logan as she tugged her V-neck top down to an obscene level, and pushed out her lower lip slightly. Rory hated how girls put themselves on display. Not only were they humiliating themselves, as Logan clearly didn't show any interest, but it degraded Logan and Rory's relationship to a certain extent. As if these girls thought that they could damage the Golden Couple's relationship.
Up until recently, Rory would have wondered if Logan missed girls like that, missed the meaningless hook-ups and she would have let her insecurities get the better part of her, and silently urge Logan to order her much needed latte as he oozed confidence. It was easier for him, too, since he had no clue that the barista was Next-In-Line. However, today, she oozed confidence since Logan worked his magic on her. Being with him on a private Greek Island for 10 days didn't hurt either.
Just as Next shot Rory a death glare, she wrapped her arms around Logan's waist, "Are you going to get anything, babe?"
He smiled at her, before ordering, "A regular coffee."
"Whipped," the barista muttered, though the couple could clearly hear it.
Logan shrugged; he wasn't so much whipped. He was tamed and he wouldn't have it any other way.
The couple was strolling back towards the hotel late that afternoon. "What about dinner tonight, Ace?"
She started to pull the list from her purse, but he stopped her. "What do you want?"
Her answer came as a bit of a surprise to both of them.
"Greek!"
She couldn't help it. As lovely as Paris was, Greece was on her mind.
"You, my Ace," Logan slung his arm around her shoulder, "Never cease to amaze me. Here we are in one of the gastronomic capitols of the world. Pierre La-This-de la-That is cooking up a storm in some fabulous restaurant somewhere, and you want Greek food."
She shrugged, "But I really like it!"
He smiled, "Greek it is then!"
(M)
"So, what are all these coffees for," Logan asked, balancing the take-away tray as he and Rory walked back to their house.
"Those," Rory pointed to the tray, "are for later..."
"And this one," she ceremoniously dropped her empty cup in the trash, "was a pre-afternoon pick-me-up." She looked at him suggestively.
"So," he smirked, "You think you are getting an afternoon "pick-me-up"?"
Rory laughed, hoping her eyes didn't give away her timidity. She wasn't quite as good at the innuendos and smooth-talking as Logan.
"Yes."
"Well, I don't know about this," Logan said in a fake-serious tone, "How am I supposed to feel, now that my girlfriend finds it appropriate to skip class to have her way with me? What guy wants a girlfriend that puts her own needs above his education? An education, I might add that, many, many people around the world are deprived of and would kill to have this spot?"
"I don't know," Rory smirked, resting her head on his shoulder, "How do you feel?"
"That school is over-rated," he matched her smirk, before leaning in, brushing his lips over hers.
Logan had succeeded in finding a Greek restaurant in the City of Lights.
"I propose a toast," Logan said, pouring a tiny glass of ouzo for Rory and one for himself.
"And what are we toasting to?" Rory asked curiously, as she took the small glass of alcohol from him.
Logan contemplated this for a moment. He wanted to say, for coming this far, for putting up with each other, for living in the crazy, demanding society… but he settled on a simple, yet all-including, "Us."
Rory sat on the edge of the bed and pulled Logan's blue dress shirt over her head.
"Now, where are you going, Ace?" he asked playfully, reaching for her arm.
She swatted him away, grabbing a pair of stray shorts from the ground and putting them on. "We've been in here since 3:30…" she glanced up at the kitty-cat clock on her wall. "It's now 8:30. I think our friends might be a little worried."
Logan shrugged as if to say, "Let them worry."
"Besides," Rory leaned in and kissed him quickly, "I'm starving. Those coffees aren't enough to tide a girl over!"
It was getting late, save for an elderly couple, Logan and Rory were the only other people there. They were sharing a delicious plate of baklava and a strong cup of Greek coffee.
Logan was talking about something, probably something about how they should go to the Greek Restaurant more in Hartford. Rory nodded and tried to be a worthy conversationalist, but she was having a hard time paying attention as she was mesmerized by his features.
The way he moved his hands as he talked, the conscious, considerate brush of his fingers against her hand, or arm. That dashing smile that played at his lips, his boyish blond hair styled effortlessly, the hint of a six-pack under his crisp white shirt, the sound of his voice as he spoke to her as if she was the only person in the world that mattered. All of this definitely drew her to him. But, to Rory, it was all about the eyes.
They practically sparkled tonight as the couple dined in a dimmed lit restaurant, and Rory could have sworn she saw at least one hundred shades of brown in his eyes. They were welcoming and inviting, but they also showed determination. It was evident that Logan had not forgotten the reason behind their trip. That's what impressed her the most. He had done a pretty good job of mending her broken heart. She only hoped he felt the same way.
"This will be all for you tonight?" the Greek/French waiter asked as he approached the table, bringing Logan's conversation and Rory's daydreaming to a halt.
"Ace?" Logan asked.
She glanced down at her half-empty coffee cup and decided that she had enough. "Yes, thank you," she smiled quickly at the waiter, "It was lovely."
"Wonderful," he nodded. "And for you, sir?"
"Uh –" Logan paused, he was going to ask for the check, but remembered something important at the last moment, "Actually, and I know this a is bit of a strange request…"
"Not at all, sir," the Greek replied, hoping that his customer would not have an insanely crazy request.
"I would like a Keftadakia to go, please."
"Ah, sir," the waiter responded with frown, "The kitchen – it has been closed. No more food…"
"Oh no," Logan waved, "It's not for now, we just would like to take one with us. I'm sure this can be arranged," Logan said, pulling out his Amex card to settle the check.
"But of course," the waiter replied immediately, noticing the power that his customer held, before scurrying off to the kitchen.
"What's that all about?" Rory asked, "We just ate a meal big enough to feed a small country!"
Logan laughed, "Yes, but we forgot the Keftadakia!"
Rory frowned, wondering what a Keftadakia could be, as the waiter returned with a brown paper bag, "Thank-you very much, monsieur & madame."
"So," Rory exhaled, stepping out in the chill of the Paris night, "What is it?"
"Have a look," Logan suggested, handing the bag to her.
She stopped walking and quickly peeked in and recognized immediately what it was.
"It's a meatball," she said softly, looking up at Logan.
"A Greek meatball," he corrected playfully.
Rory could cry. They had stopped celebrating anniversaries quite a while ago. She hadn't thought about the meatball tradition until she saw the Keftadakia in the bag. But, he remembered.
He noticed the look on her face. He didn't want her to be upset. He had been trying so hard to win her over, fix her, and fix them. He could tell that he was on the right track, by the way she looked at him and how she talked to him. He loved the carefree attitude she had adopted the last few days. The way she smiled, talked a mile a minute about random facts, the subconscious noise she made after taking the first sip of a cup of coffee, the curl of her hair, her breezy laugh and the way she had walked, oozing a sultry self-confidence he hadn't seen since college.
He didn't know if she was trying to be irresistible, but he knew he had fallen for her all over again, as soon as he laid eyes on her in London.
She looked up at him, "I love it."
"I – "
But Rory shushed him gently by placing her index finger on his lips.
"I love you."
"Colin asked if we were up to something dirty," Rory said upon returning with two bowls, spoons, ice cream and a can of whipped cream.
"What did you say?" Logan asked.
"That we were, and they needed to put whipped cream on the list."
Logan laughed loudly, as Rory hopped on the bed, straddling Logan. He brought his arms up to her neck, meeting her gaze. "You know I love you, right?"
"Ouch,"
Logan immediately broke the trail of much-loved kisses on Rory's neck, "What?" he mumbled hoarsely.
Rory rubbed her elbow, looking rather annoyed. "Damn Victorian style, spikey doorknob!"
After proclaiming her love to him on a Paris street, the couple rushed back to the Ritz, stealing kisses and seductive looks at every stop sign, cross walk or light along the way. The managed to contain themselves in the elevator, as a rather distinguished looking lady and gentlemen rode with them, but as soon as the doors pinged opened, Rory and Logan fell into a tangled embrace full of anticipating kisses and touches. They'd managed down the plush carpeted hallway, stopping in front of their door, leaving Rory flush against the door and a brush-in with the evil doorknob inevitable.
Logan suppressed a smile and pulled her into a hug, gently tracing comforting circles on her elbow with his thumb.
"Making out in a hallway is not as romantic as it seems," Rory pouted, subconsciously letting her hands run up and down Logan's neck and back.
"You live and learn, Ace," Logan said and Rory knew he was smiling.
She pulled back, and indeed met his smiling face. She stuck her hand in his coat pocket, found the key and stuck it in the door, "Let's find someplace more comfortable then!"
He laughed as she looked back, "Grab my meatball, please."
"Dirty," Logan smirked as he picked up the almost-forgotten meatball of the carpeted hallway.
Logan and Rory were lying on the bed, tangled in a bunch of a satin sheets and each other.
"You know what I could go for?" She caught the look the suggestive look in his eye, but she chose to ignore it. "Ice-cream!"
Logan laughed loudly. Rory never ceased to amaze him. "That can be arranged," he said, but he remained in his current position on the bed.
A loud buzz of Rory's cell phone filled the Prestige Suite. It was the ever-classic 'Hot Stuff.'
"Lorelai?" Logan asked, rolling away from Rory, knowing that she was going to get up to answer her phone.
"Close," Rory chuckled, getting off the bed, draping a cream colored satin sheet around her naked body.
"Stephanie!" she squealed and instantly started gabbing to her friend about the recent events in her life.
"Be right back," Logan whispered, slipping on his dress shirt and a pair of forgotten shorts.
"What did Steph say?" Logan asked as he returned to the room with another platter of room-service ice-cream specialties.
"She wanted to know if we were up to something dirty," she shrugged.
"What did you say?" Logan asked.
"That we were, and that American whipped cream is better..."
Logan laughed loudly, as he hopped on the bed, straddling Rory. He wrapped his arms around her back, meeting her gaze, "You know I love you, right?"
So?! I'm dying to know!