A/N: I do not own GG.

Author's Note: I know this chapter took longer to post, but it took a while for my muse to become inspired. That inspiration came from my now back from vacation beta lauramelinda! She gave me the brilliant idea, and I hope I did justice to it. By the way, I was so excited to get this posted, that she has not in fact edited it for me yet, so all mistakes are mine! Next time I promise to try to be better and let her do the edit thing. Honest.

Some Guy Who Sells Socks on the Internet

"Mom, I don't know what to wear!"

"Clothes?"

"Not cute. This is not a time for cute. He's going to be here any minute and I'm currently wearing socks and a smile."

"Did you hang your red light out?"

"MOM!"

"Okay, serious now. Where is he taking you?"

"I don't know. He didn't tell me. Logan's not one for the details. He's very of the moment and I have no idea what I'm going to wear. I'll wear the wrong thing, it will be bad and – why aren't you helping me?"

"Kid, relax. It's just a first date. You need to find something you're comfortable in that can either be casual or a bit more dressy. Like a jean and blouse ensemble, with heels. Always wear heels."

"I have a blue skirt, the cute one with the polka dots on the bottom. I could wear that with a scoopy neck sweater."

"Add the brown strappy heels, and I think you've got an outfit."

"Thanks mom!"

"Don't forget to turn out you're light. Wouldn't want Logan to get confused. If Ewan McGregor shows up, send him to my house…I'll leave the light on."

"What about Luke?"

"I don't think Ewan would be Luke's type, but I'll run the offer by him, just in case."

"Psycho."

"Such love from my only daughter."

"I'm hanging up now."

"Bye."

Rory tossed her phone on the bed and glanced once more at the outfit. It wasn't the best, but it was hard to plan a "ready for anything" outfit. Guys had it so easy, just add a jacket and it was formal. Girls on the other hand…just too many options. Glancing at the clock, and noticing her remaining fifteen minutes were going by fast, Rory let out an "eep" before quickly putting on the Lorelai approved outfit.

Just as she was applying the last minute touches to her makeup, she heard the knock on the door. Fortunately, Paris was out…doing whatever it was Paris did; it was safer to not ask any questions. With one final appraising glance in the mirror, Rory grabbed her purse and headed to out to face her first date with Logan. Sure, she'd wanted to be exclusive and all boyfriend/girlfriend, but was she didn't want was the butterflies in her stomach. Honestly, she hadn't felt this nervous since her impromptu date with Dean. She shook her head; no thoughts of Dean were allowed tonight. Tonight she was beginning a new chapter in her life.

Logan was just about to knock again when Rory opened the door. She looked amazing. To be completely honest, she could be wearing coffee stained sweatpants and a Metallica t-shirt and he'd still find her absolutely stunning. He allowed himself a moment to appreciate the way the skirt hugged her hips and flared out by her knees; one of the perks of being in a committed relationship, he reasoned, was the freedom to drink her in as much as he wanted.

"Hey, Ace," he greeted, once he'd had his fill of looking.

Nervously, Rory tucked a stray strand of hair behind her ear. "Hi."

Unable to resist, Logan reached out, and hauled her close. "Been dreaming about this," he whispered.

Before Rory could ask what it was he'd been dreaming about, Logan had fused his lips to hers. This kiss was nothing like the last kiss; it was amazingly more than the last kiss. Of their own accord, her arms worked their way up and around his neck. Clearly taking her move as encouragement, Logan pulled her even closer and allowed the kiss to become deeper. When oxygen became a necessity, she reluctantly broke the kiss.

"I could get used to this boyfriend thing," Logan panted.

Rory blushed. She moved out of his arms to grab her purse, and would have sworn she heard him sigh dejectedly, but instead of mentioning it to him, simply smiled and took his offered hand.

With a silly grin on his face, Logan led a surprisingly quite Rory across campus towards a familiar spot. He knew the ride to the restaurant would be long, and didn't know exactly how much time could lapse between doses before bad things ensued. So, to be safe, he planned ahead.

"Ace," Logan said in an attempt to pull her from her thoughts.

Rory looked up at Logan, and realized they'd traversed most of the campus. Looking around, she noticed they were standing in front of her favorite coffee kart. A bright smile lit up her face as she watched Logan smile back at her.

"One large cappuccino and a small coffee," Logan ordered.

He handed Rory her large cappuccino and began to lead them towards his car. Really, it had taken him most of the hour to decide where to take Rory. More than anything he wanted tonight to be special, to show her how much he wanted this, them to work. He figured he had some catch up to do since he was breaking his playboy ways. When he'd seen her at the door, she'd literally stolen his breath. In that moment, he couldn't understand why he'd resisted her for so long. What could hundreds of women have compared to Rory? Sure, he was still terrified. This was serious commitment, and there was every chance he could screw it up entirely. Maybe he'd find out there was a reason for his self-imposed bachelorhood. Maybe he wouldn't be able to be a boyfriend. While he wanted to be successful for Rory, he was honest enough (at least, with himself) to admit he could fail.

"Penny for your thoughts?" Rory asked, voice soft.

Briefly, Logan glanced down at her. He caught sight of one of the highway markers and was amazed at how much time had passed. The glow from the streetlights cast her face in an angelic glow and he felt his heart contract within his chest. Whether or not he made the correct decision for them, they were here now and he'd experience everything he could, while he could and save his untenable thoughts for when he was alone.

"Just making sure it's not one of my dreams, Ace," Logan confessed.

"You dreamed about riding in a car with me?"

"I dreamed of being around you. I dreamed about kissing you."

"You did kiss me."

"I know; I was there. And, it was infinitely better than my dream."

"Good to know."

"Did you grandparents know about Dean?"

"What?" Rory scrunched up her face in confusion. Logan wasn't big on subtle subject changes.

"The meat market they put together for you on Friday, was it because of Dean?"

She paused before answering his question. Was it because of Dean? Nothing happened, and certainly nothing that her grandparents would know about, but she did suspect at least Emily noticed her rut, and neither her grandfather or her grandmother had ever shown approval of her two previous boyfriends…maybe it was, in a way, about Dean and Jess and their unsuitability.

"Maybe," Rory admitted. "They never liked Dean, or Jess."

"Jess?" Logan asked, suddenly jealous.

"Mmhm. I dated Jess after Dean, but Jess left."

"So maybe the whole party was a setup?"

"I think it was. I can't believe they'd trick me like that, though. Mom, I'd believe, but not me."

"They want you to find a suitable match. It's what they do. I've been to a million of those types of parties."

"Did you see my grandpa? When he saw us together? If he'd smiled any bigger he'd've been the Cheshire cat."

"Colin and Finn told me your grandmother drug you around to every eligible bachelor; which at a party like that was every male under thirty."

"Colin and Finn told you?"

"Confession – I sent them to keep an eye on you."

"Really, Huntzberger?" Rory teased her voice laced with fake curiosity.

"You knew?"

"I figured it out. I'm glad you did, though."

"Good."

When Rory's car door opened, she jumped a bit. She hadn't realized they were already to the restaurant. Looking up, she expected to see Logan, but instead was greeted by a young man in a non-descript vest. He smiled pleasantly and held his hand out for her to take. Feeling a bit stupid, and highly self-conscious, she placed her hand in his. Once she was out of the car, Logan was beside her, a huge grin on his face. Taking in her surroundings, Rory realized how unsuitable her outfit was for their current venue.

The daylight was beginning to fade, the setting sun reflected on the river. As Logan led her across the wooden bridge, Rory took in the grandeur of the place. The wrought iron lamp posts dotting the bridge flickered to life as she passed them, almost as if Logan had planned it that way. Their warm glow cast dancing shadows on the foliage to the right of the bridge. The more she saw, the more out of place she felt. It was uncomfortable to be in a silly little skirt when she felt as though a full on Cinderella prom dress would be more appropriate. Slyly, she peeked over at him. Sure, he was wearing a suit coat, but again, guys can simply add a jacket and call it "formal". Jerks. More than what he was wearing, Logan looked too comfortable by comparison.

"Ah, Mister Huntzberger," a man in a suit greeted. "I have your table all prepared."

Inside, Rory died a little – the place had a maître d' and everything. Judging by the less than impressed glance he cast her way before he turned to lead them to their table, he also thought she was underdressed for the location. She could just imagine his thoughts, and his voice sounded strangely like Michel's, "How drab" or "Could have at least pretended to put some effort into it". Again, she cast a nervous glance in Logan's direction, but he seemed blissfully unaware of the social blunder she was experiencing. When they reached the table, Rory couldn't help but gasp. The linens were pristine, the cutlery would have made even her grandmother smile, and the single, red rose with a gorgeous white ribbon tied around the stem that was placed neatly on her charger made her feel like the most important person in the world…the universe.

She looked up at Logan, who was watching her closely, and felt for the first time that evening that maybe she wasn't the only one feeling horribly, wretchedly awkward. As a peace offering, and out of true sincerity, she offered him a warm smile; it pleased her to see his face relax a bit, but it also caused her a pang of jealously because she felt no such reprieve. Delicately, she leaned over to touch the rose petals, expecting them to feel satin-smooth. What she didn't expect was the maître d' to do the push in the lady's chair routine. Consequently, she sort of lost her balance, fell lopsided into the chair and let out an undignified "umpf" noise. She whirled her head around to cast a death glare upon the maître d', but found herself ducking her head self-consciously at his uncannily accurate disappointed Emily Gilmore face. The face looked identical to the one her grandmother had given to her mother when she had unceremoniously announced during an awkward dinner party that she'd had a Brazilian bikini wax because Vogue said exotic was in that season.

"I'd like the wine list," Logan told the maître d'.

Not knowing if Logan simply didn't notice, or if he didn't care about her less than stellar moments so far, Rory attempted to mentally pull herself together while Logan conversed about the wine. She wasn't ignorant of proper social behavior. Emily Gilmore, while not a dominate figure in her life until she was nearly sixteen, had been a formidable instructor on points of etiquette. Sadly, most of the instruction had occurred in the sanctuary of the Gilmore mansion, not some urbane restaurant. Instead of wasting their time introducing her to societies most eligible drones, her grandparents should have been teaching her the finer points of not being an idiot in public.

"Miss?" the maître d' interrupted her internal self-loathing.

"Huh?" Rory responded eloquently. Mentally, she smacked herself upside the head.

"I need you see your ID."

"What?" Logan and Rory asked in unison.

"Sir, we have a strict underage drinking mandate in our establishment. Our benefactors will not tolerate the drunken foolishness of underage profligates."

"Here," Logan began as he reached into his jacket pocket, "is my ID."

Momentarily walking away from Rory, the maître d' took the ID from Logan's hand, gave it a cursory glance and handed it back. "Thank you."

The pompous man turned back to Rory. "And yours?"

Beet red, Rory reached into her bag and withdrew her ID. With a subtly shaking hand, she offered it to the man, who glowered at her imperiously. Eyes cast firmly on her lap, Rory waited for the maître d' to finish scrutinizing her ID. Of course, he'd realize that she wasn't even twenty years old yet, and she had visions of being bodily thrown from the establishment like the riffraff in old western movies. When Rory dared to peek up at him, she faced the glacial smile she expected.

"I'm sorry, miss," the maître d' began, "but it appears that you are not yet twenty-one years of age. I regret to inform you that you will be unable to drink any alcoholic beverages at our restaurant this evening."

"Excuse me?" Logan asked, voice carefully controlled. "I don't believe she ordered any alcoholic beverages, or any beverage at all. I asked for the wine list, and as I'm of legal age, I can."

For a brief moment, the maître d' appeared to lose his composure. The moment soon passed.

"Perhaps you have chosen a poor location for your – dinner," the maître d' offered in a fake conciliatory tone.

Logan leveled the man with a dangerous, mirthless smile. "Perhaps I have."

Rory glanced up when she noticed Logan standing next to her chair. He held his hand out to her, but was still staring at the maître d'. Not wanting to draw attention to herself, she slid her hand into his and meekly stood from the table.

"I hope your resume is current," Logan told the maître d', the masked threat evident in his voice.

Before she could catch up with the events of the evening, a different man in the same non-descript vest was holding the door to Logan's Porsche open for her. She mumbled what she hoped sounded like "thank you" to the man before sliding into the seat. Logan stared determinedly ahead the entire drive back to Yale. Every time Rory would open her mouth to break the awful silence that had descended upon the car, she quickly clamped her mouth shut. It was frustratingly hard to read Logan. He'd completely shut down once he'd engaged the maître d' in a mini-verbal sparring match. What she wouldn't give to know what he was thinking about, how he was feeling. Did he regret doing the girlfriend thing? Had he ever been on a date quite like this one? Before she could continue her silent self-questioning, they'd arrived back at Yale and at the doorstep of her dorm.

"Rory –" Logan began, but cut himself off. He looked down at his shoes.

"I should have been wearing your raincoat," Rory blurted.

"My what?"

"Raincoat. Then be told 'you obviously don't belong here', leave upset, come back the next day, buy nothing, and tell them I have shopping to do."

"We'll give that a shot next time," Logan responded, almost absently.

"Next time?" Rory asked, hoping he meant it.

"Next time," Logan assured her, smile firmly in place.

Rory returned his smile in turn. "And they didn't even have cheese fries!"

There you have it; the first date between our favorite couple! I just know you'll have thoughts about this one; be kind and share them!