A/N: I don't own GG.

People Who Thought Latin Was Cool

"I need coffee," Lorelai announced as she walked into the diner.

"You felt the need to announce this?" Luke asked as he poured her a cup.

"It's our thing," Lorelai told Luke.

"Our thing?"

"Yes, our thing. I come in, ask for coffee, you pour the coffee while wondering what you see in me."

"Ah that thing."

Luke smiled. He'd been in love with the woman sitting before him for years. It was still amazing to him to wake up and see her laying next to him. In most things, she was his opposite. Small children came up to her willingly, people smiled at her because she was just nice, and her daughter could charm Lucifer himself. Instead of wondering what he saw in Lorelai, he seriously wondered what she saw in him.

"Are we still on for tonight?" Luke asked.

"The movies? Are you serious? We can't be trusted with movies," Lorelai began. "After last night's fiasco, and your freak out – I thought they were going to escort you out in one of those jackets with all of the buckles."

"The movie was horrible. Nothing happened," Luke complained.

"What are you talking about? It was nothing but things happening, or things going bang or people losing limbs, or eyes or faces…and they wore collars," Lorelai finished lamely.

"We can go to the movies again, but you no longer need to choose the film we see," Luke informed her.

Lorelai pouted, and pointed to herself. "But, I –"

"No, you have forfeited your rights to select the movie to me."

"Because of one bad movie?"

Luke stared at her, hard.

"Okay, it was more than one bad movie, but before me you hadn't ever seen Casablanca and you fell asleep during Hard Bodies. Your movie selection included a recording of an episode of Gomer Pyle and one Bugs Bunny cartoon. This hardly gives you the appropriate credentials to be Roger Ebert!"

"That is irrelevant. You no longer can pick movies for us to go see," Luke said, ending the conversation.

"I need to get back to the Inn. We'll argue about tonight's movie later?"

"Pick you up at 8?"

"I'll be the one holding the entertainment section."

Rory stared at her computer screen and watched the cursor blink. It had been three days of nothing. She was half a step away from a coma induced from lack of progress. The excitement she'd felt earlier at discovering her article had waned significantly over the past four hours. She'd also resolved to never brag about her knowledge of Latin again. Google seemed to be mocking her and rubbing it in by not giving her anything useful. One thing she knew about the phrase was it was secret, and those who knew the secret were extremely good at keeping their secret, which also meant they weren't a Gilmore. Also, typing in gorilla mask with ball gown had netted some results that would leave her mentally scarred for years to come.

About to give up for the night, Rory typed in "Ready for Anything", the English translation of the Latin catch phrase. Suddenly there was something. Something interesting. There were articles that linked a group, the Life and Death Brigade to Yale. She read through the articles, and while the details were vague and rather not detail like at all, she learned it was a secret society that was based here at Yale. Finally, there was a picture. A group of people in formal wear were holding umbrellas and they jumped off of a bridge. This was the story she'd been looking for, but with the lack of details she was finding on the internet, she needed to find a source; someone on the inside to give her a scoop.

"You're here early, Gilmore," Doyle announced.

Rory's head popped up from her desk. "Early?"

"Ah, you were here all night."

"Oh," Rory breathed, feeling a bit pathetic.

"What's the story?"

"Story?"

"Too early for complete sentences?"

"Coffee."

"None on me."

"I found a story that I really want to do, but the research is scarce. Like finding a good Carrot Top movie."

"Sounds serious."

"Yeah, but it's the Life and Death Brigade. They're this super secret society here at Yale and no one has been able to get a story out of them. I need to find a source on the inside."

"Go with your gut."

Rory continued to search for something. Someone had to have found at least one name to print. There were dozens of sketchy articles about the group floating around. One headline caught her attention: "Police Nab Members of 'Secret Society'". She looked at the photo and read the names printed at the bottom. Shocked, she looked up from her computer screen, blinked her eyes several times and looked back down at the screen to read the names again. "Elias Huntzberger" was printed at the bottom. Rory smiled as she realized she'd found her in to the group. These secret societies were always generational, and she knew a Huntzberger.

Later that day, after she'd bathed, and gone to her classes, Rory did what Logan had accused her of their first meeting and stalked him. She did some sleuthing and found out where he would be during different parts of the day. It did occur to her that this was perhaps extreme, but she somehow thought Logan would appreciate the irony of the situation. Since she hadn't seen him all weekend, she had decided to wait for him during the week. Right now, she knew he would be leaving class. Wanting to appear as casual as possible, Rory leaned against the pillar and watched Logan come around the corner. As he had at their first encounter, Logan had a blonde draped around him. When he leaned closer and whispered in her ear, Rory felt a surge of an uncomfortable emotion rage through her. If she were to identify it, which she wasn't, she would have called it jealously. But, since she didn't name it, she settled for ignoring it.

"Hey, Huntzberger," Rory said from her position near the pillar.

Logan winced when he heard her voice. He still hadn't worked out his "Rory Issues" as the boys had charmingly named them. The weekend was meant to be a chance for him to have breathing room, a little space from those dangerous blue eyes. In his attempts to purge her from his mind, he'd rivaled Finn for most liquor consumed without death being the ultimate result and he'd entertained a string of blondes. He'd the thought the weekend had been successful, in fact, he'd had a blonde with him all morning. Her name was Missy, or Merissa or something with a name in the middle of the alphabet. But, one second around Rory Gilmore and all of his weekend avoidance meant nothing.

Rory almost regretted saying anything to him. The look on his face shocked her. Not to mention the look on the blonde-haired girl's face. If this were a prison film, she'd be checking the girl for a shiv and holding onto the soap with both hands. It was almost as if she was meeting a different Logan. Maybe he had an evil twin.

"Cat got your tongue?" Rory joked, trying to break the awkwardness.

"Hey," Logan offered lamely. He felt the blonde maneuver herself closer, as if it was possible. "You waiting on me?"

Rory moved away from the pillar and glared at the blonde, feeling unnecessarily possessive. "Could be."

"Wow, I'm flattered," Logan said as he straightened up a bit. He couldn't seem to get any space from the blonde of the hour, and desperately wanted to because Rory had sought him out…which was bad. He didn't get excited about girls stalking him.

Irritated, Rory considered finding another lead, but knew she wouldn't find one anytime soon. "Your prerogative." She hoped she was matching the indifferent tone he had affected.

"You here on business or pleasure?"

"I just thought I'd get your perspective on the article I'm working on, but on second thought, I might find another person better suited to offer a perspective."

"What article?"

Knowing it was now or never, she decided to ask him, even if he did seem overly distracted by the blonde who was either whispering in his ear, or searching for a quarter with her tongue.

"The one I'm doing on the Life and Death Brigade."

"The what?" Logan practically choked on the words. He'd spent the weekend on a LDB event, and now she was writing an article about it? He'd definitely given her a fitting nickname.

"The Life and Death Brigade," Rory repeated. When he continued to stare at her, with that now stupid smirk on his face, she pushed on. "It's a club. One of these super secret, super exclusive clubs here at Yale, membership spans a thousand centuries, secret handshakes and secret sayings, and a lot of running around in circles in your underwear, that kind of thing."

"Sounds pretty secret."

"Well it is," Rory ground out. She was a little tired of his patronizing tone, and really wanted to get away from the idiot blonde…both of them. "I just figured that since you're in it, you'd like to give me your point of view."

"I'm in it?"

"Well, aren't you?" Rory asked, a bit unsure for the first time.

"I've yet to run around in a circle in my underwear."

Rory smiled. "I doubt that."

"Touché, Ace."

"I have proof that your grandfather was in it, which means your father was in it, which means that you are in it."

"Sorry to let you down."

"I have plenty without you. I just thought that having an interview with an actual member would give my article that special human connection would be great, but I can do the article without any help from you."

Logan felt hurt that she didn't need his help. Which he shouldn't, it was good that she could write the article without him, it would help with the space that he was building between the two of them. He had an uncomplicated gorgeous blonde slung around him, and she was bored.

"Well, great."

Rory heard the dismissal in his tone. She refused to be simply dismissed by Logan Huntzberger. She wasn't one of the mindless millions that wrapped herself around him in the hopes that he would offer her the smallest crumb of affection or attention. Not that she wanted attention or affection. Not from Logan. More than all of that, she did not want to be dismissed by him.

"Plus, I'm completely onto your routine. I've got your whole schedule figured out now," Rory hollered after him.

Her admission pulled him up short and he could feel and hear the girl sigh as he turned back to face Rory. "Finally decided to try out the whole stalking idea?"

"Whatever it takes for a scoop. So I figure I'll just track you, and you'll eventually lead me there anyway. So, hey. I mean it would have been easier if you just would have talked to me now, but I can do it the other way if you want."

"The other way?" Logan asked. He forcibly disentangled himself from the blonde and moved closer to Rory.

"Yes."

Logan took another step forward. "You tracking me?"

Rory visibly swallowed. "Yes."

"Following my every move?" Logan asked, his voice low and intimate. He moved closer to Rory, forcing her back against the pillar.

"Yes." Rory couldn't form a coherent sentence. In fact, she'd practically forgotten what they'd been discussing. The only thing she knew for sure was that Logan smelled amazing and she had something solid behind her.

"I pick that way," Logan told her as he tugged gently on her jacket. He looked into her eyes and was pleased to see the slight glaze to them that probably mirrored his own. The resolve he'd built to stay away from her was clearly as solid as a house of cards and now that he was this close to her, breathing the same air, he couldn't remember why he'd wanted any space from her in the first place. The only thing he knew with certainty was his overwhelming desire to kiss her was stronger now than it had ever been.

"Okay, but – " Rory began, her voice breathier than she really wanted it to be.

"We can start right now if you want," Logan offered. He boxed her in, standing directly in front of her. Acting independently of his mind, Logan's hand moved from where it had been holding onto her jacket up to her waist. "I'm heading back to my room, I can keep the window open in case you feel the need to sneak in, and track me from the inside."

Rory felt her knees turn to Jell-O and was eternally grateful for the solid, cement pillar behind her. His voice was like velvet as it cascaded over her senses. If his face came any closer to hers, talking would no longer be an activity they'd be humanly capable of completing.

"Thanks for the info," Rory breathed, amazed she'd formed a sentence comprehendible by humans other than herself.

"Absolutely," Logan responded, his face centimeters from hers. He knew there was no force on this planet that would be able to stop him from closing the distance and kissing Rory. In fact, he was silently congratulating himself for holding off for this long.

Rory knew he was going to kiss her, she also knew she wouldn't stop him. Her heart was racing, her palms were sweating and she suddenly felt sixteen again.

"Uh, Logan?"

His eyes closed, knowing the moment was past. He squeezed Rory's jacket for a second before regretfully moving away from her. He turned to the girl, who he was rapidly regretting saying okay to when she'd asked to tag along with him today. Before he could say something intelligent to Rory about the suddenly uncomfortable situation, the blonde pulled him away and had him halfway through the archway faster than his mouth could catch up with his brain.

"Hey," Logan called, after he'd managed to at least turned around. He was pleased to see Rory was still flushed as she made eye contact with him. "Good luck with that article. Sounds like a hell of a scoop."

Rory nodded her head stupidly as she watched Logan watch away with the ditzy blonde.

Clearly this story has a life of it's own and demands to be written. I hope you all enjoyed the chapter and the added, intense Rogan interactions. Let me hear your thoughts!