King Arthur Wore Tights

Lorelai smiled. She'd managed to drag Luke with her to a town meeting. Now, it was because his plans for their evening were changed, but the scowl on his face made the inconvenience worth it. He was being very super, secret spy guy about the plans that he'd made for them. She'd tried everything to get him to fess up, but nothing. While annoyed that she didn't know his surprise, she was impressed with his ability to withstand her charms. This must be one hell of a surprise.

"Remind me again why we're going to this stupid town meeting?" Luke grumbled.

"Town meetings are a tradition going back to the Pilgrims and those cute shoes with the oversized buckles. I never understood why they put the buckle on the shoe, maybe it was because the poor immigrants couldn't tie their shoes."

"Yes, that must be it," Luke deadpanned.

She smiled; she could really get used to taking Luke to town meetings. Her phone rang, and thinking it was Rory, who'd been in serious need of talks recently, she answered without checking the caller ID.

"Harry's Bikini Wax House, it's only creepy because we're male," she greeted.

"Lorelai?"

"Mom?"

"Why on earth would you answer your phone like that?"

"Because hello is over worked and I can't afford the overtime."

"Never mind."

"Mom, why'd you call?"

"The most bizarre thing has happened. At 7:30 at night, I had just finished my dinner. I was about to go upstairs and read, and I suddenly heard a car."

"Uh huh," Lorelai was distracted partly from not caring and partly from Luke who kept tugging on her jacket.

"I ran to the window just in time to see your father driving away. He was driving away at 7:30 at night."

"He's a grown man, mom. Setting a curfew now just confuses people."

"Lorelai, this is serious. Where was your father going at 7:30 at night?"

"Maybe he had a business meeting."

"With who? No respectable person would conduct a serious business meeting at 7:30 at night!"

"You're right. He's going to a non-serious meeting with clowns and stand-up comedians. They always have their meetings as 7:30 at night."

"Why aren't you taking this seriously?"

"Because mom, dad's a fully grown male. And I'm about to go into a – thing," Lorelai said, unsure of how to adequately describe the town meetings to her mother.

"Well sure, go to your vague event. What am I supposed to do? I'm not going to stay home like an Italian widow. Come out with me."

"Why don't you call one of your DAR friends?"

"You and Rory are the only ones who know about the separation."

"Right, the separation…by the pool. Look, I can't right now and Rory just moved back in to Yale. Can we finish this later?"

"Fine."

"Uh, I can't believe you distracted me," Lorelai said, turning on Luke.

"How is this my fault?"

"You distracted me, and then I answered the phone and had to deal with my mother."

"You're making me go to a town meeting."

"Talking to my mother is not even close to you going to a town meeting."

Startled, Rory stiffened at the sound of his voice. He couldn't be here right now, especially if he'd brought Finn – Paris would murder her, then hold a wake. At least the black candles would still be usable. Resigned to her imminent departure from this world, she allowed her shoulders to sag in resignation.

"You promised you'd remember my name, Logan," Rory growled without turning around. She wasn't in the mood for his attempts at charm.

"Giving you a nickname isn't the same as forgetting your name, Ace," Logan answered.

He smiled broadly as he watched her turn around, fire raging in her bright, blue eyes.

Rory opened her mouth to respond, but closed it as she watched the keg enter the room. Another ten feet and Paris would notice. "No, no, no, no, no!"

Slightly alarmed by her swift mood switch, and the high alarm in her voice, he followed her panicked eyes. The keg.

"Finn! Colin!"

"Yes, master?" Finn asked.

Finn paused when he noticed a manic looking Rory. "And love!" He lowered his voice, "Couldn't stay away?"

Fortunately, Rory was too distracted to blush, even when Finn winked at her.

"Embarrass her later," Logan ordered. "I need you boys to relocate the keg."

"Come on," Colin said as he slung a compassionate arm around Finn's shoulders. "The master has given us instructions."

"I – but – keg!" Finn mumbled, distraught.

Rory watched the boys effectively maneuver the two large frat boys carrying the keg out of the room. In a rather trance like state, she followed them to the doorway and watched Logan's friends lead the keg boys out of Brandford Hall. It was when she could no longer see the keg that the whole situation came to life in her mind; she conducted a quick mental recap. Logan showed up with Finn and Colin, Logan made Finn and Colin remove the keg, Logan called her Ace, Logan came to the wake.

"What are you doing here, Logan?" Rory asked, tiredly.

He threw his arm over his heart dramatically. "I'm hurt, Ace. You should be happy to see me."

"What about either of our earlier meetings makes you think I'd be happy to see you?"

He smiled. Rory's eyes conveyed the spectrum of her emotions. Right now, she was somewhere between irritated and amused.

"I'm not so egotistic to think everyone is happy to see me, but most people don't throw rotten vegetables at me. You have no real reason to be opposed to my presence. I did remove the keg from Paris' weird theme party," Logan offered conversationally.

"Ah, my knight in shining armor. How quickly I forgot your act of chivalry. But technically, you had your merry men remove the big, heavy keg from the wake," Rory retorted. "And, weird theme party?"

"Just repeating the word on the street," Logan answered. "I did also see the posters for the wake, and it didn't say anything about being an invitation only event."

"Fine you're here. Take a book, kiss the photo and go away," Rory instructed. To emphasize her stance, she pointed to the 20x30 print of Asher Flemming Paris had printed and hung near the window. No matter how many times she'd tried to reason with Paris about the over-sized image, Paris had insisted on it being predominately displayed. She just kept insisting that "people" would want this. Rory had instead substituted "Paris" for "people".

"Come on, Ace. You can't tell me you're actually enjoying this Adam's Family event," Logan said.

Rory smiled in spite of her resolution to not find him charming. She really did hate these parties, but Paris needed the closure or exposure…she wasn't quite sure which it was. Logan showing up threw her night into a spin, upset what she'd established as her role for the night. And the nickname? Was he serious, or was it simply a cover for not remembering her name?

"What's with the nickname?" Rory asked, realizing asking herself the questions was silly and ultimately uninformative.

"I realized after our tet a tet in the hallway earlier that you called me Logan. I didn't tell you my name. You figured out my name between meeting at the coffee cart and the meeting in the hallway. Clearly you're stalking me."

"Clearly," Rory mumbled. She rolled her eyes at his smirk, and the laughter dancing in his chocolate brown eyes. "Or, I asked Marty."

Logan laughed, something he found himself doing a lot around her. It took him by surprise, but he usually went with the moment so he didn't question it too deeply.

Before she could say something to further confuse the situation, and her feelings about the blond, her phone started vibrating in her pocket.

"Hello?"

"I'm sorry, I'm sorry, I'm sorry, I'm sorry, I'm sorry!"

"Mom?"

"I'm sorry, I'm sorry, I'm sorry, I'm sorry, I'm sorry!"

Confused by the incessant apologies, Rory's brow wrinkled in confusion. She looked around the party, trying to see if there was something amiss.

"Rory!"

"Grandma?" Rory asked, finally noticing the woman who swept into the room.

"I'm sorry, I'm sorry, I'm sorry, I'm sorry."

"I'm hanging up now," Rory growled to her mother.

"Logan?" Emily questioned. She was unaware her granddaughter knew the Huntzburger heir.

"Emily." Logan greeted.

This was just great. Not only was her grandmother here, at a wake for her roommate's dead professor boyfriend, but Logan was still here. There was no telling when Finn and Colin would return and that would lead to all sorts of awkward, potentially unexplainable antics. Tonight's events reinforced, or explained why she chose to read a book while everyone else went out partying. Most shocking of the night, her grandmother and Logan knew each other. Well, of course they did. It was a small, inbred community among the rich and entitled.

Emily halted when she fully noticed her surroundings. She'd been so upset by Richard's odd behavior and Lorelai's vague dismissal of her plight that she didn't notice the hodgepodge group in Rory's room. She wrinkled her nose; the black candles and black wardrobe were highly distasteful. Clearly, Lorelai neglected to properly educate Rory on proper party decoration and attire. Perhaps Logan was simply here for the party. She would see to it that the two were better acquainted, in a more appropriate venue.

She noticed the shocked look on her granddaughter's face, and realized her own social blunder. "Rory, I'm sorry to show up like this, but I simply had to get out of the house. You're mother indicated that you'd be home, so I decided to stop by for a visit."

"Emily!" Paris exclaimed. "How good of you to come."

"O-of course," Emily responded as she was embraced by highly emotional coed. She questioned Rory with her eyes, hoping for some sort of explanation.

"Grandma," Rory began, a bit hesitantly, "this is a wake for Asher Flemming."

"Well, you'd think your grandfather could have mentioned it to me," Emily fumed. It was embarrassing to not know the simplest of things going on at Yale. Honestly, Richard should have told her. His childish behavior, purposefully not telling her something important like this, was inexcusable.

"He died in Oxford," Paris explained. "He was teaching a Shakespeare class - "A Midsummer Night's Dream." He was doing Puck, and then suddenly he wasn't….and the class was so into his reading, they didn't even get it. They thought he was acting. It was Dick Shawn all over again."

"Professor Flemming was a great instructor," Emily said politely.

Paris attempted to stifle a sob. It was too much; having Emily come to pay her respects.

Emily looked down and noticed how distraught Paris was over the insufferable man's death. "He was very dedicated to his students."

Before things could become even more awkward, Rory grabbed Logan's sleeve and pulled him further into the room, closer to her door. "You can't know my grandmother."

"Is this a rule? Will I be brought up on war crimes?"

"Don't joke, this isn't funny. You knowing my grandmother is just…this is not happening."

"Relax, Ace. Emily and Richard are friends with my parents. We see each other at all the parties, exchange pleasantries and then forget about each other until the next required appearance."

"No, no. She'll see my rut. If my mom had a problem with my rut, then grandma will really not like my rut. And while I'm ok with my rut, well, I'm not exactly going to name it or anything, but it's a friend, a…welcome companion, but now with you here…she'll feel the need to become Yenta when she realized she missed her calling and want to make me rut-less!"

Once again, Logan understood nothing Rory said, but he found it cute to watch her explode. Honestly, he'd been as shocked to see Emily Gilmore as Rory. He knew the way matchmaking mama's worked. The last thing he needed was Emily telling his mother he was spending time around one Rory Gilmore. She came from a good line, and while he didn't think of her as livestock, people of appropriate breeding in Hartford society were quickly matched up, paired up and married. Not that Rory needed to worry about any of that. From what he knew of her family's history, she'd been taken out of the society life by her free-spirited mother. Everyone in Hartford knew about Lorelai Gilmore and her pregnancy followed by her hasty retreat from her family's name and fortune. It made Rory somewhat of an enigma.

"You have to leave," Rory announced suddenly.

Her pronouncement pulled Logan from his ponderings. "What?"

"You – you have to leave."

"Ok, come with me."

Rory looked at him, eyes wide. He was crazy. She couldn't leave her grandmother here with Paris at this ridiculous wake.

Logan forced himself to not mirror Rory's shocked expression. He hadn't really intended to invite Rory to leave with him. He was still trying to reason out why he'd shown up tonight.

"I'll tell you a secret," Logan whispered conspiratorially. He'd noticed Finn and Colin hanging around in the hallway, and motioned for them to wait. "The key to avoiding awkward introductions and further explanations at parties is to escape by forming a sub-party. We'll go find where Finn and Colin stashed the keg."

She opened her mouth, ready to give him a definitive no, but stopped. She kept telling herself to live, to be a bit more adventurous. As her mother told her, take small steps. While leaving with Logan wouldn't be the same as showing up on time to class, it was far from being the other woman with her married ex-boyfriend.

Logan knew the moment she'd made her decision. He could tell by watching her face as she processed her options, then made an informed decision. Secretly, he admired her insistence upon making a well-informed decision. While he also thought the was perhaps a bit crazy about it, it was a nice change from his "what the hell" attitude.

"You teased me with the idea of a sub-party?"

"Let's go, Ace," Logan said as he extended his hand.

"Baby steps," Rory murmured to herself as she took Logan's offered hand.

Another chapter. Apparently my must doesn't care if it's finals...lucky you!