A/N - I wanted to post this earlier today, but apparently there were server problems. Heads up, their outing is split between two chapters, however you'll be happy to know that I'm posting them both tonight, so no cliff hangers!

As I got ready the next morning I went through my mental to-do list for the week. Hopefully I would finish the public works piece today so that I can run it past Gerry as soon as possible. Then, I needed to focus my Saudi Arabia article. Dominic is expecting a copy of what I have by Thursday morning; we have a phone meeting planned for that afternoon, once he's had a chance to look it over.

Thursday night was another event entirely. Deep breath. I was definitely less anxious about our impending outing than I had been about the last, but seeing him after everything that happened at lunch was kind of only making me a different kind of nervous.

When I got off the train, Leslie was waiting for me outside the lobby of our building, two coffees in hand and a cheesy smile on her face. I was justifiably speculative about her cheery demeanor… it usually meant trouble.

"What did you do?"

"Nothing!" She shook her head and raised her hands in a failed attempt to deny any mischief making, but she couldn't contain herself. "Okay fine, I may have looked into the address he gave you to meet him at."

"Leslie!" I had not given her the address. "You are going to get in trouble hacking into people's email accounts one day."

"Not people's… just yours. Come on Rory, I needed something to go on other than 'drinks'."

I pushed her through the double doors, toward the elevator. While I was not about to condone the method by which she came about the information, I couldn't help but be curious about what she had come up with. "Fine… What about it?"

"It's a nice place, Ror… certainly not McConnell's. A swanky bar on Park Avenue? Are you sure this isn't a reunited-and-it-feels-so-good date?" She sang as she spoke.

I had given this some thought last night… a lot of time had passed, and a lot of things had happened and changed since we were last together. I had finally admitted to myself that I still wanted Logan, but what I really wanted was to not get hurt again. His outpouring had been passionate, and I knew he had meant every word; my heart fell for it hook, line, and sinker, but my head knew that this would be complicated, and the jury was still out. I could not, in my mother's words, go 'diving head first into this'.

Back to the issue at hand; He had picked a venue that was way out the league of Leslie and my 'lowly reporters in the big city' lifestyle. I sighed, "No it's not, Les. That kind of place is just… Logan."

"Whatever you say, Andie. If it weren't for your history, this would all be very Pretty in Pink… a man of means pursuing a woman from the other side of the tracks."

I shook my head at her. I had straddled the worlds of grounded, small town upbringing and upper class society for a long, long time; this was not a big deal. Secretly, I was glad that she had looked. Even if stepping back into his world made me slightly more nervous about tonight, I had to admit… it made me a little excited.

Once I got to my desk, I committed myself to work. I had too much going on this week to have any other choice. I successfully completed a solid article on the proposed changes to the public works budget by lunch, and after agreeing to some of Gerry's editing suggestions, submitted it to copy. One thing done. Thankfully I had gotten more replies from my sources, some more usefully than others, so I was ready to do some damage on that article.

By nine o'clock Thursday morning I had messengered off my new draft, along with some further research that I had done, and at twelve-thirty I was at my desk waiting to hear from Dominic. I answered quickly when the phone rang.

"Rory Gilmore…"

"Rory, this is Dominic, your new freelance editor." Was he being serious?

"Excuse me?"

"Yea, I ready through the article, though I have to admit that I did not make it through the very detailed research. It could use another once over, try to really drive home the finer points, but its good stuff. Definitely something I'd be interested in representing."

"Well, thank you; that's great to hear. I'm really happy that Leslie got me in touch with you."

"So am I; it's always good to find new, promising clients. She tells me you are a columnist at The Post with her?"

"I am, going on two years now."

"Good for you. Now, other than those few revisions I think that the only thing we need to do before it's ready to send out is take care of the legal crap. You'll have to sign a contract with my agency, nothing too scary, but we do take a small commission of what we get published..."

"Of course, that's totally understandable." I tried to hide the eagerness in my voice. I wanted to be professional, but this was very exciting.

"… and I assume that you've checked your contract with The Post? As long as there are no hang ups there I will send our contract for you to look over. Then we'll set up a time for you to come in and sign."

"Um… yea… sounds good."

"Great! I'll send your article back with it. Take a look at the notes, add what you will, try to get it all back to me ASAP. I'm feeling good about this one, Gilmore."

Check my contract with The Post? It hadn't occurred to me that that could be a problem. When he hung up I started to panic. What if there was some stipulation that barred me from writing for another publication. I knew I had a copy of it somewhere in my files at home, but I needed to find a copy now.

I went to Sarah at the front desk to ask where I could find records of contracts. Crap. They were confidential. If I wanted a new copy of my own, I would have to go through my editor. I really wanted to have all the right information before I broke the news to Gerry that I had kind of gone behind his back with the piece that he rejected.

I sent him an email requesting a copy of the contract, but he had been in meetings all afternoon. It was after six when he finally emerged from his office. I was looking at the clock, worried about being late to meet Logan. I still had to get home and change before turning around to head back uptown, but I needed to get this contract thing taken care of before I could sign with Dominic.

"Got your email, Gilmore. Come on in."

I sat down in front of his desk.

"Did my assistant get you that copy you wanted?"

"No…"

"Shit." He shouted out the open door, "Sherry where's that contract?"

His assistant came jogging in, shuffling through the stack of papers in her arms. "Got it."

Gerry turned back to me, "So what's this about?"

I wasn't expecting to have this conversation right now; I had really just wanted to get the copy so I could read it over myself.

"Well… I got you the article about public works on Tuesday..."

He nodded while he read the contract in front of him, "Yea. Nice job."

"Thanks… but I wanted to talk to you about the piece I had originally done on the Middle East."

"Look Rory, I told you, it's a good piece, but it's too much for our column. You're a great writer, but I can't print everything you do."

"I know. I get it. That's why I'm here, that's why I want to see my contract… I want to know if I have rights to shop it as a freelance piece."

He looked up from his desk, like he was asking if I was serious. I felt my hands sweating… I had gotten all excited talking to Dominic today; I really didn't want Gerry to tell me it had been a waste of time.

He took one more glance at my contract. I really wish he would just let me see it.

"You show it to anybody yet?" Please! Just tell me if I messed up.

"Yea… an editor at a freelance agency. He said told me it had promise. I just really wasn't ready to give up on that piece. It's not that I don't like what I'm doing here, I do. I just…"

"Relax Gilmore. You're in the clear, but going forward you still have to give us first shot at everything you write. You are staff here, after all." He smiled, "The last thing we need is to get scooped on a story written by one of our own."

I was so relieved. I took out my phone on the way back to my desk to email Dominic to confirm that everything was copasetic, and realized what time it was. Crap, I've got to get going.

After the email, I sent Leslie a text to let her know the good news. She was excited, but cared more about what I was planning on wearing tonight… big surprise.

At quarter to eight I was giving myself a once over in the mirror. I was definitely going to be late again, but it shouldn't be too bad. Outside of office attire, my 'nice' clothing selection was limited. I didn't have all that much need, or budget for it. I finally settled on a Friday-night-dinner-approved purple cocktail dress and sweater combo. My hair was still up from work, but at the last minute, I pulled the clip out and let it fall around my shoulders… couldn't hurt, right? I settled on a small clutch with the essentials, rather than my usual everything-but-the-kitchen sink bag, and as I headed out I got a text from my mom.

"Not sure what we are rooting for tonight, but break a leg, kid."

When I found my way inside the bar it was relatively crowded. As I wove my way through small groups gathered at the bar tables, I was vaguely reminded that it had been exactly a week since our first encounter. It had been a very long week.

He saw me first this time, stood up from his bar stool and flashed a patented grin. I could see that he had taken the liberty of ordering drinks while he was waiting for me.

"Well look at you, Ace." I wasn't sure how to respond. Was that just a compliment, or was he flirting with me?

"Well, when you picked a place like this to meet, I figured hobo-chic wasn't my best option."

He laughed as we sat down. Good. Laughing is good. "A prudent choice, though I'm sure you could have pulled it off. Besides, I think the Olsen twins would have stood by it."

I felt the slightest hint of butterflies in my stomach, and took a sip of my drink. He had brought out his A-game.

"So… sorry I'm late…"

"No need to apologize. We're busy people." He hadn't stopped smiling, and he was using that sly tone that I remembered so well from college.

"Yea… Work has been kind of crazy for me this week. You?"

I hadn't meant to bring up what had been a sore subject at lunch. He kept smiling, but only nodded.

Tonight had started so well, I didn't want to push it yet.

"So, I got some good news today…"

"Yea?" He immediately perked up again.

I told him about hearing from Dominic, and the momentary, but ultimately unfounded panic about the logistics of my contract.

"Wow, Ace! That is good news! We should celebrate. Bar keep!" He leaned towards the other end of the bar holding up two fingers toward the bartender, who in turn set down two shots of tequila in front of us.

"Logan…" This was not the kind of 'drinks' I had in mind tonight.

He tilted his head and gave me his best puppy dog eyes. "Come on... not everybody is as lucky as you with their publishing rights... To new opportunities!" He held up both glasses, one outstretched to me. I knew Logan could come up with a reason to celebrate anything, but it was nice to see that he was excited for me. I reluctantly took the drink and downed the shot with him.

"Any ideas of where this guy is looking to get your article out?"

"No, not really. To be honest, I haven't even met him in person yet. Leslie is actually the one that got me in touch with him."

"Well she does… care." He wasn't going to let that one go anytime soon. "So, besides taking the journalism world by storm, and Leslie, what else is going on in your life, Ace?"

It was strange for our conversation to be so comfortable. It wasn't exactly like it once was – I'm not sure that it ever would be – but it was much more natural than lunch had been… much more us.

"Life is pretty good. I really like being in the city. It's always exciting, there's always something to do… but you know that, you lived here before... Oh and I told you about my mom and Luke, and Landon..."

"You did indeed. It's very exciting. I'm sure your grandparents are thrilled." His last statement had an heir of amusement to it.

"About having another grandchild? Of course. About having had to explain to the ladies at the DAR that their son in law has no pedigree and runs a diner? Not so much."

"Sounds like classic Richard and Emily."

"Very much so… I'm actually having dinner with them tomorrow night."

"Don't tell me Friday night dinners are still a thing in the Gilmore family?"

"I believe that until the Gilmore house goes the way of the Hartford Circus, Friday night dinners will remain a thing. Having the excuse of leading a busy, New York-centric life, I don't attend all that regularly, but I do make an occasional appearance. Much to Luke's chagrin, attendance for the three of them is mandated."

"Well, I should expect nothing less from your grandmother…"

We spent a few minutes recalling some of Emily's more memorable moments, including the look on her face when she heard Paris and Doyle's joke about sleeping with their respective editors at my 21st birthday party.

"How is Paris these days?"

"Paris is still Paris. She's busy in Boston, finishing up medical school… although I'm not sure she will ever go into the practice of medicine. That whole aversion to sick people is finally catching up to her. She is now considering a PhD to go along with her MD so she'll probably end up spending her time doing research. Doyle actually ended up sleeping on the couch for like a week after making some crack about her belonging in a lab."

"Brave man, that Doyle."

"Indeed, lesser men would have perished under the pressures of life with Paris long ago."

I took a drink from my martini glass and smiled, remembering the years I spent living with Paris at Yale. I can only imagine what it's been like for Doyle while she's been in med school.

"So I expected that you would turn into a total work dork, Ace, but that's it? Your family and Paris?"

The emphasis on the term work dork made me smile, a phrase I had coined as commentary on his change in priorities after he had left Yale.

"No… I'm not a work dork all of the time. I've got Leslie, and we have a pretty good group of friends and guys from the office that we hang out with…"

"Guys?" He had a sudden look of intrigue on his face as he interposed his question. He was fishing to see if I am dating someone.

"Yea… you know, just friends. We all go out after work sometimes. A couple of them regularly embarrass themselves in the darts competition that McConnell's has on Tuesdays. Always very amusing." I was a little surprised by my need to clarify the platonic nature of my male friendships.

"Right." He smirked as he took a drink of his scotch, but I couldn't tell if it was because he could sense the nervousness in my voice, or if he was relieved to hear that I wasn't dating anyone.

"Speaking of amusing friends, you still hear from Colin and Finn?"

He laughed. "Yea, I do. Finn is still chasing redheads, most unsuccessfully I might add. Colin is actually here in New York. Apparently he fell madly in love with this girl he met in Brazil, at a topless beach, no less. Turned out she was on spring break from Brown at the time, insisted he come home with her to meet her dad, who is some big-wig at a bank. Under the impression that the star cross lovers would last, he gave Colin a job so that he could provide for his little girl. Long story short, a few months later he lost the girl but now he's stuck with the job."

"Wow. Well, at least it's nice to know that some things never change."

"But some things do?" Once again I had unintentionally opened a can of worms. I wasn't exactly sure where he was going with that, but it was too early in the evening for that kind of innuendo.

"So, um… want another?" I referenced our mostly empty glasses, and signaled the bartender for refills.

He nodded. Hearing about Colin and Finn was the most information about his life that I had gotten out of him so far, so I figured I should run with the conversation. I spent the next half hour hearing about the boys' escapades, some new stories, some old. We were both having a good time, laughing and joking, when the story of the three of them crashing into my philosophy lecture to put on a skit wound its way into the exchange. For a second I thought that the mention of it would bring our conversation to a screeching halt, but instead Logan summoned another round of shots.

We each still had half of our drink of choice in front of us, so I had to ask, "What are these for?"

This time when he held up his shot glass it was, "To Colin and Finn…"

"Colin and Finn?"

He gave a sly smile, "…without those to idiots I might never have won you over."

I was embarrassed, both by the fact that he had brought it up, and by the fact that he seemed to be so proud of that supposed feat. Regardless of where we went from here, Logan and I had had some great times together. I bowed my head and picked up my glass, "…To Colin and Finn."

Now there was a pause in conversation, but it wasn't so much awkward, as it was expectant. Logan was peering past my shoulder to the other side of the room, but before I could even turn my head to see what he was looking at he had stood up and grabbed my hand. He pulled me up from my own stool, and hurriedly dragged me away from the bar.

"Logan! What are you...? What about our…?"

He laughed over his shoulder, "Come on, Ace. Where's your sense of adventure?" It was with him. It was always with him.

When he stopped we were standing at an empty booth. I looked at it, and then back at him, "A vacant booth? This was your adventure?"

He shrugged his shoulders and smiled, "I saw the last group leave and didn't want to miss out."

** I do not own and characters or content relating to Gilmore Girls, Pretty in Pink, or any other entities mentioned. **