Author's Note: Another chapter, hopefully it will tide you over until finals are over...no promises. Side note, I'm also looking for a beta, if you're interested let me know.

A/N: I don't own GG

Answer Me with My Name

On some level, Rory knew she didn't really care whether or not this guy actually remember who she was, but he'd interrupted her internal musings. He just acted so, she bit her bottom lip contemplating the best adjective to describe him, haughty…yeah, haughty. Although, he currently looked too stunned to act haughty. She conceded one point to him, her tone had been a bit harsh given the triviality of the situation. Her earlier conversation with Marty about Logan Huntzburger and his stooges might also have clouded her first impression of him.

"I'm sorry…we've met?" Logan asked, a bit stupidly. He watched her face closely, and noticed when she, ever so fleetingly, looked a bit contrite and bit her bottom lip. At that moment, Logan had to forcibly remind himself to think of something other than kissing her. Honestly, the girl verbally assaulted him in the middle of Brandford Hall and his first gut reaction to her is attraction? He shook his head at his own foolishness. Finn and Colin were right, he was in a weird girl pattern…restless…that was a good word, nice and generic, to describe his current feelings on the fairer sex.

"We met earlier," Rory offered. When he continued to give her that rather blank, yet searching look she continued. "We met earlier today by the coffee cart, with my friend Marty."

Now Logan felt hopelessly lost. If he couldn't remember the name of a pretty girl, there was little chance he'd remember the name of some guy who'd been around her at the time. Sadly, he didn't remember meeting anyone today…except the blonde girl who he'd eagerly ditched to help Finn find his elusive redhead.

Exasperated, and wanting to end the pathetic encounter Rory spelled it out in simple terms for the boy. "Yes, Marty. My friend Marty. He bartended for you, for your parties."

Now he remembered; he'd forgotten Marty because the guy was boring. The earlier conversation flooded his mind. He winced a bit when he realized he'd been overly attentive, for him at least, to the girl in front of him fearing she'd keep her boyfriend from bartending for him. Now that he knew they were simply friends, she'd mentioned that fact enough times for him to never forget, he regretted not paying her more attention. He allowed himself to really look at her. Other than the air of frustration around her, she stood comfortably enough in his presence. She didn't attempt to move closer to him, or throw any obnoxious coquettish looks his way…that might be due to the anger she threw at him earlier, but still he was Logan Huntzburger. If anything stood out about her it was her utter lack of reaction to him. She just simply seemed to accept his existence, but she clearly wanted to make herself remembered.

"Right," Logan said, wanting to stop sounding like a moron. "Your friend Marty. I believe I said he makes a kick-ass margarita. You decided not to like me because I momentarily forgot your name? Angry works for you, by the way, and it's nice to see you again – "

She watched a self-assured little smirk sneak across his face as he baited her into a response. He knew that he'd completely forgotten her and Marty. He also purposely let his sentence hang in the air.

"Rory!"

"Rory," Logan repeated, liking the sound of her name. "I'll leave you to putting up your posters of – " He paused and read name from the giant pile of posters in her arms. "A really old guy. What, they were out of Orlando Bloom?"

"It's for a wake," Rory responded before her brain caught up with her. She didn't need to answer any more of his questions. She just wanted to finish putting up Paris' stupid posters, go back to her room and read a book. The twinkle in Logan's chocolate eyes was beginning to grate on her already frayed nerves. The last thing she needed was a guy in her life.

"I'm going to kill Paris," Rory mumbled aloud.

"Paris?" Logan asked, genuinely interested. He knew she didn't mean to say anything out loud, but her eyes gave her emotions away.

"My roommate Paris. The wake is for Asher Flemming, Professor Asher Flemming – her idea. Something about people wanting to pay their respects to him. And then she was smoking a pipe like she's Jeremy Brett, not in her room, but in the common room, the room common to the both of us. Instead of wallowing with a good pint of Hagen Das like a sane girl, she decides to throw a wake complete with black candles…she probably has Elvira on call to serve drinks!" Rory ranted.

Amazed, Logan took it all in; the Rory Gilmore package. What he had expected was a simple explanation, or a glare sans explanation. Instead, he'd received the cornucopia of explanations, of which he understood about half. Funnily enough, or perhaps on purpose, he had to put some of the pieces together. Chances were pretty high that Paris had been Flemming's flavor of the year. Logan noticed that Rory didn't appear to have been telling any of this to him as information, but he felt as though he'd simply been in the path of the verbal tornado. Most fascinating to him was his fascination with the girl. Her face went from almost blank, to frustrated, to incredulous, to exasperated and finally settled on resigned.

"Logan!" Finn bellowed as he and Colin walked back down the stairs.

"Don't interrupt him, Finn," Colin chastised. "Can't you tell he's otherwise engaged?"

"I could have sworn that was her room," Finn whined.

"Her who?" Rory asked, eager to get the conversation away from Paris and her awkward mourning habits.

"My friend here," Logan gestured toward Finn, "means no harm. He just needs to learn that Guinness and blondes, they don't mix."

"Redheads!" Finn interjected, as if wounded.

"What's her name? Maybe I know her? Unless of course you've momentarily forgotten, like your friend here is prone to do?" Rory asked.

Impressed, Logan smiled at the self-satisfied smirk on Rory's face. She definitely dug in her heels when the mood struck her.

"Uh, it was short?" Finn offered, a bit scared by the brunette's hostile tone. He did appreciate the looks ricocheting between his best mate and the Shelia.

Rory smiled in spite of herself. The guy was amusing, if nothing else. And unlike Logan, he at least pretended to be contrite. He seemed more playful than haughty to her. She decided she liked him the most.

"I can understand your disappointment, losing a potential soul mate like that," Rory commented dryly.

"No worries, love," Finn said, a broad smile on his handsome face. "I'm Finn, even if you're not a redhead."

For a moment, she didn't know how to react. He reminded her of a hyperactive puppy…at least what she imaged a puppy would act like…Gilmore's weren't allowed to have pets. He stood there, practically bouncing in place with his hand sticking out.

"Rory," she offered as she attempted to shake his hand. Instead, she found her hand lifted and a chaste kiss placed on the back of it.

"Alright," Logan said, pushing Finn back. "We'll now leave you to continue your…mission."

Logan began walking toward the exit, Colin and Finn trailing behind him. Unable to resist talking to her a bit more, he turned back. "Tell Marty I said hi…and I promise to remember you instantly next time."

He caught her smile before she went back into her room. He smiled to himself as he realized he would remember her instantly next time. He had a sinking feeling in his gut that he would not soon forget one Rory Gilmore. The feeling confused him, and he was not often confused by women, or his feelings towards them. He actually enjoyed talking with her, and watching her rant, and the way she bit on her lower lip when she was deep in thought intrigued him.

"So," Colin said as they exited Brandford Hall. "I do believe we interrupted something."

Logan looked up at his friend and shook his head. He didn't know what to make of his encounter with Rory, and he wasn't going to allow his knuckle-headed friend have a crack at his expense.

"I know what we're doing tonight," Logan announced.

Rory stood outside the door to her room, the flyers in her arms momentarily forgotten. Earlier events replayed themselves in her mind. She couldn't help but notice how much more alive the three crazy college boys seemed to her. The grey cloud of the Dean situation had yet to leave her, she just couldn't seem to come to a satisfactory conclusion. She'd done numerous pro/con lists…major pro no one, okay so only Lindsey, was hurt; on the con she'd been too afraid to make a mistake. Logan appeared to have zero structure to his life, and while Rory was far from joining some hedonistic anarchy, the freedom he radiated held a certain appeal. She doubted he ever consulted a list; he seemed a very carpi diem sort of guy…the antithesis of her minute by minute life.

She thought back to her freshman year when Paris decided she wanted to change herself. She'd actually called Lorelai and begged her to persuade Rory to open the door for the party. Granted, the party ended up being a complete bust, especially with her grandmother's obligation friends, but still she didn't really put much of an effort into it. She realized that each time she put herself out there, stepped outside of the world she'd created for herself disaster struck. Chilton had insisted she make more friends, have a more active social life…she went, she sat, she saw, she rang, she quit. It had been a disaster. She wondered what she was doing wrong. Other people lived their lives moment to moment and didn't have catastrophes each time they walked out their front door. The forgotten flyers fell to the ground as Rory reached for her phone.

"Loin fruit!" Lorelai greeted.

"How do you do it?"

"Do what?"

"Crazy road trips to scary bed and breakfasts, leave everything you've ever known and make a life for yourself, plan crazy birthday parties where the cops show up?" Rory babbled.

"Hon, what's wrong?"

"Do you think I take enough chances?"

"Expiration dates are on there for a reason, you know."

"Mom!"

"Sorry, we're in serious mode. Right. Chances. What brought this on?"

"I'm a sophomore in college, and the only reckless things I've ever done were a bus trip to New York and bell ringing."

"And we learned that you're not supposed to ring bells and that spontaneous doesn't work for you. Hardly midlife er, uh quarter-life crisis events."

"How am I going to be an international correspondent if I can't even…" Rory died off as she realized what she was about to admit to her mother.

"This is about Dean, and almost being the other woman. Look that was the right choice. Being reckless is going to the mall and buying one too many pairs of Jimmey Choo's, not sleeping with your married ex-boyfriend. You've got to get past this."

"I can't shake this feeling, though. Like no one put Baby in the corner because Baby never left the corner. Maybe I should change my name to Francis. Or I could always add on a new personality, Paris usually has one to spare. Or maybe, I'll find my long lost risk taking twin, kidnap her and force her to teach me to be her…which would be me being me, but not."

"Or you could just stick with being Rory. My one and only daughter, the most important thing in my life…next to pie."

"Pie?"

"Of course, because who doesn't love pie."

"Of course."

"Babe, it sounds like you're restless. It's part of the growing up thing, at least now you're past the strange hair and awkward voice pops and your arms and legs are appropriately proportionate. If you want to be a bit more adventurous, go for it. But start small, start with something like being on time instead of a day early for class."

"Paris is having a wake tonight."

"Um, okay. A wake, really?"

"The professor died."

"In bed?"

"In class."

"Of course."

"She had me put up flyers advertizing the wake, and there were these guys who were trying to find a girl with red hair and a short name and they were just so in the moment. I realized I was standing there holding an armful of posters of 'a really old guy' and I have no life. I go to class, I go to the paper. I went on one date last year and the stellar conversation piece this future journalist came up with: urine mints."

"I get it. This is a guy thing. You're in a guy rut."

"I'm not in a rut."

"You haven't had a boyfriend since Jess and then things with you and Dean were…and well, if it's not a rut it's at least a dry spot."

"Maybe, but is this really just a boy thing? Because, I don't know that I want it to be a boy thing."

"Huh?"

"I'm not that girl."

"Well, no, she's taken."

"I'm not that girl who has to have a boyfriend."

"I know that. Just take it slow. This wake tonight – "

"Seriously? You want me to find a new boyfriend at a wake for Paris' dead professor sugar daddy?"

"A little less Rocky Horror Picture Show, but yes. If you meet a guy, you could engage him in casual conversation. See if you two have anything in common – discuss the pools about the professor dying in bed or somewhere other than in bed."

"I'm hanging up now. Paris will expect me to help hostess."

"Bye."

"Bye."

Several hours later people were scattered around the common room and the hallway. She mingled, but since most people thought it was some weird theme party, there wasn't a whole lot of room for her to get her groove back, or whatever it was her mother wanted her to do at the wake. She'd spent the better part of the evening reminding people it was a wake and begging them to not call him the old dead dude. Fortunately for her, Paris didn't notice because she was too busy being overwhelmed by people's affection for her dead boyfriend.

Her eyes widened in horror as she saw three large men carrying a keg. She so didn't have enough normal party experience to tell those boys to move the keg…not that normal college party experience would have helped her because Paris was her roommate. She walked over to the boys, hoping to come up with something brilliant to say to them between where she was and the door, but having her doubts.

"Hi, um, guys?" Rory said in an attempt to gain their attention.

"We need the keg to find a different home," she said to no one. They ignored her, naturally.

"Having trouble, Ace?"

I know it's not how it happened in the show, but I put the AU in the summary for a reason. If you have thoughts, feel free to share them with me!