Disclaimer: I don't own GG.

Remember it's AU and ENJOY!

Four months ago he had been in the same situation, sitting in an airplane chair, resentfully sipping a beverage as he waited at London Heathrow for his plane to take off. This time around though, he had been able to secure the Huntzberger Jet, so his chair was more comfortable and he was sipping quality rum-and-coke, instead of sparkling white wine that pretended to be champagne. Still, that didn't do much to ease the pain as just like last time, his final destination was Hartford, CT, a place he had banished to the far corners of his mind since Richard Gilmore's unfortunate death.

His perspective on the situation had changed drastically over the past four months. It became clear to him that his clean-break strategy wasn't working. Not that she didn't grant him the freedom he so desperately craved. No, one hundred and twenty days without a single form of contact underscored her disinterest in him. He was the one who didn't allow himself a clean break.

Her smile was forever present in his minds eye and their handful of tantalizing conversations replayed in his mind whenever he had a spare moment.

And yet, fact stood that he had barely gotten to know the girl he called Birkin and all he knew about Lorelai Leigh Hayden-Gilmore was from the Society Gossip Mill and so he pretty much surrendered to his old Bachelor ways, chalking whatever 'thing' he might have thought he had with B up to nothing more or less than the seven hour flight they shared.

"A refill for you, sir?"

The flight attendant took his crystal tumbler before he could respond. If Logan did not know better, he would have thought he was flying commercial, what with how the flight attendants flirted with him. He resented Mitchum for making him fly all the way out for a two-hour meeting. Surely, it could have waited for the Quarterly Meeting in London next month?

Then again, Mitchum did not realize the strain he put on his son as he did not know about whatever it was that Logan had convinced himself he was not feeling for a certain blue-eyed, brown-haired Hartford Beauty. As far as old Mitch was concerned, the funeral consoling was a chance meeting and the appropriate thank-you notes had been exchanged, albeit Logan's came from the desk of his secretary Juliet.

"Here you are, sir."

The flight attendant placed the glass on Logan's tray table, causing him to look up at her. Despite her professional appearance – the tight bun, neutral make-up, unflattering navy-blue jacket adorned with her wings-pin – he could tell she would live up to the clichéd image of a flight attendant. It was the flirtatious look she gave him, the way her hand gently brushed passed his as she placed his drink before him, the glimmer in her eye.

Logan shot her his trademark devilish smirk, which she matched as she sauntered away from him. He knew she would be waiting for him in the bathroom, waiting for him to have his way with her. He smiled wryly in contemplation and decided that he was in the mood for a little distraction.

Rory's heart practically stopped beating as she made her way through the Huntzberger Publishing Group's lobby. He was standing there, casually, waiting for the elevator, with his hair looking as perfectly ruffled as she remembered and his brown leather briefcase resting at his feet.

There was no doubt in her mind, Rory knew it was him, even though the last time she saw him it was through blurred vision. The guy had taken up permanent residence in the back of her mind for the last four months, with that damn smirk appearing at the most inappropriate moments. That did not stop her from doing a quick double-take, but he was still standing there: the one and only Logan Elias Huntzberger

She scolded herself subconscious-self for using his full-name. Those midnight Huntzberger Google-searches were a bad idea! For a moment, she considered bolting, seeing that in some cases avoidance was better than confrontation, but she couldn't. For one, Mitchum would not tolerate re-scheduling and more to the point her feet had inexplicably started walking towards him.

"Did you know the Romans are credited with the prototype of the elevator?"

Rory could kick herself. Really, who said that to the person they'd secretly been fantasizing about for the past four months? If she'd been thinking rationally she would have gotten mad – or at least aloof – with him for sending her a generic secretary thank-you.

Logan turned to her with a bright smile and a slight look of disbelief on his face. He was flabbergasted - it was really Rory Gilmore standing here before him. Instinctively, he smirked at her while he let his eyes quickly travel her body.

She was wearing a knee-length black pencil skirt with a crisp white blouse tucked-in, which hugged her curves perfectly. With her legs elongated by black stilettos and her hair hung loosely around her shoulder and a tiny glimmer of her diamond studs peeking through, she looked outstanding.

Much better than Logan remembered. The most visible difference was in her eyes, he noted. Last time Logan had seen them, they had been laced with sadness and despair, but today her eyes shined like the diamonds in her ears.

"Of course," he replied, keeping in perfect line with his cool-boy persona, "Any well-traveled man of the world such as myself would know such a thing…" Logan trailed off, hoping she would pick up on the reference to their first meet.

"And yet, you didn't know dangers of international travel…"

A chuckle escaped his lips and he mentally tallied another point on his side – she remembered. His triumph was instantly overshadowed by a nervous guilt. They hadn't spoken in four months and the way he left things was awkward to say the least. Not only that, he tried his damndest to not think about her and his latest tryst with the flight-attendant high above the Atlantic illustrated that…

Logan noticed her furrowed brow and realized that his sudden unease affected her. Not wanting to concern her, he reached out and brushed her arm gently. Her face relaxed and she dazzled him with her warm smile. It would have been a classic Hollywood movie moment, but the unexpected ping of the elevator ruined it.

"Which floor, B?" he asked casually as he followed her into the small square space.

"Fifty-eight." Rory quickly stole a glance at her watch; she was far too early, but her meeting with Mitchum made her nervous.

"Are you sure you don't want to reconsider?" Logan asked with obvious sarcasm in his tone. "You do know that's the Big Man's floor, right?"

She nodded in reply, causing him to raise a curious eyebrow at her. "What about all the sleazy, society business deals…" he stopped mid-sentence as he knew he was completely out-of-line. The last thing he wanted was for her to break down in the elevator.

"It's okay," she assured him with a short not. His uncensored comment brought back memories of her grandfathers wake as well as the harsh accusations she flung at him. "It's not like I'm a corporate snake, anyway…"

"Really?" He looked at her closely and couldn't detect any sign of sadness.

"Nope, I am junior writer for Features," she told him, her tone laced with pride.

"Really?!" Logan couldn't hide his surprise. However, he wondered why she wasn't running the place, what with her last names and connections.

"Impressed?" she asked with a flirtatious smile.

Again, the elevator ping interrupted a moment.

"Well, look who has taken punctuality to a new level?" Mitchum's secretary Marci chuckled happily.

The plump, white-haired women continued as she shot him an amused look, "You know this means brownie points for you, right Logan?" She picked up a legal pad and jotted down some fake points.

Logan let out a hearty laugh as he quickly made his way over to the reception area of the floor and pressed a kiss on Marci's cheek. He might not see her very often, but their phone relationship was excellent. Marci was a little bit like the grandmother he wished he had, except that she had a feisty and flirtatious streak in her.

"What can I say? I missed you?"

"Oh, don't humor me, put that smirk away," the older women laughed as she pointed her finger at him, "The jet just made good time and you hoped to get an earlier appointment with him so you could take your hot butt right back to David Beckham Land…"

Rory's laughing caught both Marci's and Logan's attention.

"Oh, Rory, I'm sorry – I should have introduced…" But Marci cut him off. "Don't be silly, I've known Rory forever and a day!"

Logan exchanged a curious look between the two women as Rory walked over and embraced Marci. "Bunny, you are growing up too fast and I don't like that," she mock-warned Rory, "It seems like yesterday you were skipping through these halls, holding your grandpa's hand, wanting to be a journalist…"

Rory smiled fondly at the memory and gave Marci another quick hug. "I know I am and I'm attending meetings…." She bit her bottom lip nervously as she felt Logan's inquisitive eyes on her.

"You'll do just fine, honey," Marci told Rory, "You've known Mitchum your whole life; I'm sure this meeting is some protocol or something…Being here an hour and forty minutes early really doesn't calm the nerves either, now does it?"

Marci placed her hand on her hip and shot Rory and Logan an equally stern look, causing them both to exchange a sheepish look.

"Kindred spirits these two," she mumbled to no one in particular as she noticed the chemistry between the Huntzberger heir and Gilmore Girl. Her lips curled into a knowing smile as she placed her left hand on Rory's shoulder and her right on Logan's.

"Why don't you two grab a late lunch at Jake-and-Jacques' across the street?" she suggested with a twinkle in her eye, "They have the best coffee and Lord knows our coffee is crap! Logan, you can tell the lovely Miss Rory all about meetings with Huntzberger…."

Marci practically forced the pair in the elevator and waved at them as the elevator doors closed.

Rory shook her head in slight embarrassment and Logan shot her an amused smirk.

"So, you hungry?"

Logan and Rory sat in corner booth at the trendy soup-and-sandwich shop across the street from the HPG corporate offices. The atmosphere was awkward at best. It was a little after the usual lunch rush, so the restaurant was quiet and that just underscored the silence between Rory and Logan as each quietly perused the menu.

"This is a little weird, isn't it?" Rory asked after she couldn't bear the tense silence any longer.

Logan shrugged as he took a sip of his soda as she continued. "I mean, the whole plane thing was a little strange, right?" She cocked her head to the side, hoping she didn't sound too obsessive.

"Yes, but we flew commercial…."

She was about to open her mouth and explain herself, but he stopped her by letting out a laugh. "I know what you meant, B," he nodded acknowledging the weird vibes as their conversation came to a halt.

It hadn't been this difficult on the flight, but so much had happened since those enticing seven hours of flight. It was clear to her that he'd changed, or perhaps he was just as nervous about their second chance meeting. She watched him intently as he studied the menu and downed the remaining sip of coffee that was in her mug. It was now, or never.

"I never meant to, uh, stain your shirt…" she blurted out and kept her gaze firmly on him. His features softened as his lips pulled into a small frown, "You were upset. It was Richards funeral…"

"I know. But I had just met you and it must have freaked you out…"

In the romantic movie version of her life, he would have reached for her hand, leaned in, whispered that it was that moment he fell in love with her, before passionately kissing her. However, this was the real-life version of her life and he remained silent.

"Oh god. I freak you out," she mumbled softly, widening her eyes in realization.

"No, no, you don't," he shook his head, "That part did … just a little."

Rory bit her bottom lip in contemplation, as he shot her a hopeful smile. "Maybe we should just start over?"

"Again?"

He shrugged. "Last time. I promise. Don't they say three times the charm?"

She looked at him in disbelief but agreed anyway. "Okay, clean slate. Forget everything we've ever talked about…"

"Wait," he asked in jest, raising his hand, "You were lying to me?"

"I was drunk pretty much the whole time."

He bobbed his head in agreement. "Fair enough. So. Square one, fresh start, no lies…."

Logan held out his hand and she shook it, making their agreement official. He kept his grip on her hand as he flowed right into their agreement, "I'm Logan Huntzberger, son of Mitchum and Shira Huntzberger and sole heir to the Huntzberger Publishing Group."

"Nice to meet you, Logan," she grinned stupidly, "I am Lorelai Leigh Hayden-Gilmore, daughter of Christopher Hayden and Lorelai Gilmore, heiress to the Hayden-Gilmore Insurance Group, but you can call me Rory."

"Pleasure to meet you, Birkin." He paused to take a sip of his Coke. He liked how she responded to his polite society role, not everyone would pick up on the mocking undertones of the exchange, but she did so he kept the bit up.

"Now, may I ask you a few questions?"

She stirred her empty coffee cup in semi-mock contemplation. Really, she didn't want to drop her guard too much, but she also wanted to get to know him better.

"Ten," she responded finally and suppressed a smile at his confused expression. "Ten for me, ten for you makes twenty questions in total, right?"

He smirked at her, once again she had outsmarted him in his own game. He shifted his position on the plastic bench-booth and leaned in a little closer to her.

"Fine, but only if you give a full explanation. None of this coy yes-or-no shit, okay?" he said flirtatiously, slipping out of his society persona.

She coughed at his mild swear, as a dainty socialite might.

"Garbage, I mean," he replied and smiled at her approving nod. Their moment was disturbed by the waiter, who refilled Rory's coffee and Logan's coke and took their lunch orders.

"Okay, now that the fundamentals are out of the way," he said, gesturing at their respective beverages, "I think this game of questions can start."

"Alright."

"Okay. Question one." He locked eyes with her before shooting off the question he'd wanted to ask her since the elevator ride.

"Why are you a journalist at HPG? I mean, why didn't Mitchum give you a better job? You are a Gilmore-Hayden, for crying out loud!"

A bright smile crept over her face. Logan was cute when he rambled. "That's two questions, mister," she teased with a sparkle in her eye. He was about to counter, but realized that he, indeed, asked two questions.

"Good questions, though," she complimented him. Rory remained silent for a moment as she contemplated her answer. "It's a long story, but I'll give you the short script," she told him with a mysterious smile, before starting.

"Grandpa introduced me to the world of books and got me interested in reading and writing. HPG was an account of his, so whenever he had investor meetings I was allowed to come, just to see how a paper was produced…"

"So that's how you know Marci?"

"Yes," she nodded and smiled, "That's three questions so far…."

He smiled back and nodded for her to continue. "So, anyway, he pushed me to write for my high-school paper and later college. I tried to be the Hayden-Gilmore Insurance Heiress, but Grandpa knew that it wasn't my passion, so he talked to Mitchum, who was about ready to offer me a contract for editor-in-chief, but I wanted to do it on my own – you know, make my own name. He wouldn't let me go to a competitor, so he gave me the lowest position there was and that was junior writer for Features. So, in short journalism because it's my passion and, right now, this is the best job I could have."

Logan waited a beat as he processed what he was telling her. From what the Huntzberger boy understood, Rory was very much loved. Not only by her immediate family, but by his Dad, too. Logan was never allowed to tag along to the offices when he was on vacation – even though he knew it was his destiny. He wasn't allowed to figure out what his passion was, let alone choose it.

"I've got to say, B, I'm jealous…" he smiled wryly at her.

She shrugged a little uncomfortably, since her life wasn't something to be jealous of. "Next question?"

"Favorite color?" he asked. It was lame, but he noticed the tension creeping back and wanted to lighten the mood.

"Blue."

"I would have guessed pink," he replied genuinely as he remembered the pink Henley she wore during the flight and the pink Birkin she toted.

"Grandma is responsible for the pink Birkin – I had my eye on the navy blue one…"

"Ah, I see." He let out a tiny chuckle. "Where did you go to college?"

"Yale, but that had nothing to do with the colors," Rory admitted, "Harvard was my dream but….Yale was closer to home."

Logan stared at her suspiciously, knowing that she wasn't disclosing the full truth but he let it slide.

"College wasn't that long ago for you, right?"

"Clever way of asking a women's age, you'll get points for that," she laughed and he joined her. He gave her points, too, for calling him out.

"I'm twenty-two. I graduated a little earlier…" she said, but he interrupted her.

"Do you have a boyfriend?"

The whole atmosphere tightened at his question. It was so inappropriate to ask, he knew, but ever since he called her in tears he was dying to know and they hadn't defined the scope of the questions so it was all fair game. Still, as he saw her face contort and her brow furrow he regretted it.

"You don't have to answer that, I'm sorry…" He was quick to apologize, but she waved it away.

"It's part of the game, it's okay."

She paused to take a sip of her coffee and looked at him.

"Did you know that the term 'honeymoon' was used first in the 16th century. The honey is a reference to the sweetness of a new marriage and the moon is not a reference to the lunar-based month, as many think, but actually to a full moon, which quickly fades. Kind of bittersweet, don't you think?"

Rory fixated her gaze on the spoon in her coffee mug, "I've had my fair share of the second part, so no, there's no boyfriend."

She inwardly rolled her eyes for being so open, but at the same time she had already exposed so much of her vulnerability to him.

"Women can talk longer with less effort than men can because women's vocal cords are shorter so they release less air through them to carry sound."

Rory looked at him with a crooked eyebrow and a incredulous grin.

"Oh," Logan shrugged in feigning ignorance, "I thought I would just wow you with my man vs. women and love related facts…"

The atmosphere immediately returned to the happy, flirtatious vibe they had going on as both of them let out a hearty laugh as Logan successfully side-stepped the sticky situation of mentioning the dreaded Boyfriends.

"So, two questions left," Rory looped her index finger around a curly brown strand of hair, "What's it going to be?"

"Don't make it harder than it is, B," Logan playfully scolded, "Let's see.. oh, I've got one. Who is your best friend?"

"Related: my mom and Grandpa," she winced a little at that thought but moved on quickly, "And non-related is Lane and by extension her husband Dave."

Logan dropped his head slightly – he could have known that she was that close to Richard. He had so much he wanted to ask her but his mind was drawing a complete and total blank as her big, blue eyes stared at him in anticipation.

"How old were you when you got totally wasted for the first time?"

Rory's face pulled into a funny smile and he could have smacked himself. From the nine previous questions he asked her, he knew she had integrity; proud of her smarts and what she had achieved so far – she wasn't some wild partier and she probably thought questions like this were offensive.

But, then again, he didn't realize that Rory Gilmore had a wild-side and that there was definite truth in the gossip about her.

"Thirteen," she told him flat-out, "On tequila shots, in my grandparents pool house. They found me and this guy in their hot tub… naked."

Logan's eyes widened in surprise, "No way! Are you serious?"

"Yes." She locked eyes with him.

"Okay then," he smirked, keeping his eyes firmly focused on hers.

The waiter managed to interrupt another possible moment as he brought out their gourmet sandwiches and hand-cut potato chips. Rory ordered an iced-tea and Logan more soda.

"Okay – break from twenty questions," Logan said, as he held his sandwich, preparing to take a bite.

Rory nodded as her mouth was full.

"Good sandwich?" he asked her.

"Not bad," Rory replied after she finished her bite. "A little high lettuce to lunchmeat ratio for my taste. I'm not a health-nut, you know…"

He laughed and agreed to trade her some lunchmeat for lettuce, as he was a health nut. Caffeine and alcohol were his only weaknesses.

"So," Rory sighed as she looked at her meat-packed sandwich. "Thanks for this," she cocked her head at the food, before steering back to her remaining questions to him. "Are you ready?"

"Yep, shoot."

"Okay, question one. Why London?"

"Not much choice," he replied honestly, "My Dad picked, my nanny packed me up and took me to London when I was a kid. She flew back and I stayed behind at boarding school. I flew back for a few summers, but after a few… I made great friends there and they are my family. My life is in London."

Rory looked at him with sympathetic eyes. "I'm sorry," she told him sincerely. "I can't imagine…"

"It's what your used to," he was quick to interject. Logan wasn't looking for sympathy. It was what it was and it was all he knew. He was fine.

"But, if you resent Mitchum so much and consider London your home – why HPG?"

"You mean, like why didn't I give it all the big finger and lead my own life?" he asked, seeking clarification.

"Exactly!"

"Legalities. I'm kind of attached to my trust fund," he ran a hand through is hair.

Rory let out a chuckle, "Me too."

"Good."

"So, how old are you?" she asked, "And put that mock-shock expression away. Women can ask men their age, it's the other way around that's socially unacceptable!"

"Twenty-three," he replied through a laugh.

"And whose your best friend?"

"Finn and Colin, definitely. And Steph, but she came attached to Colin. They're great, though. Known them since we were kids, you know, those first awkward moments, tough times, messing up Swiss chalets on vacations and drinking vodka-limes and nursing each others hangovers the next day. But, legit stuff, too. Like when Stephanie went to California for college and Colin stayed behind… "

Rory looked at him adoringly, happy that he at least had real friends, even though he had a less than desirable family life. "And you've never added anyone to your quartet?"

"Like a girlfriend?" he asked in a teasing voice, which cause a tiny blush to creep over her features. "No," he replied. "Finn and I are content as the bachelor boys."

He silently prayed she wouldn't pry, because he had absolutely no desire to tell her that he and Finn were engaged in a battle of the bed-post notches and he was currently in the lead with a number far past the triple digits.

Rory's eyes twinkled with delight, she had always enjoyed talking to him, but it was so much better when she was sober. "So, what's your passion," she continued casually as she popped a chip in her mouth.

"My passion?"

"Yeah," she nodded enthusiastically, "It's writing for me, for some people it's cooking, for others it's animals…."

"Huh." He clicked his tongue as he thought about his answer, but he couldn't come up with a satisfactory answer. There were a lot of things he liked, sure, but to go and label it a 'passion' was a step too far. "I'll have to get back to you on that one," he shrugged finally.

She couldn't hide the surprise that appeared on her face, but she didn't want to pry and waste the valuable questions she had left. "Okay, so no passion as of yet, maybe a life motto?"

"In Omnia Paratus," he said without thought, "Prepared for anything - we had this thing at Oxford, where I went to college…."

"We had this thing at Yale, too…" she laughed in reply, figuring that the Life-and-Death Brigade at Yale was similar to whatever Brigades they had at Oxford.

"Excellent school, by the way," she complimented him and he responded with a fond nod.

"What's your favorite food?"

"Now that's a hard question," he said in deep contemplation. "Can it be a cuisine?"

She bit in bottom lip flirtatiously and liked how serious he was taking this, "Yeah, sure."

"Okay, favorite cuisine has to be Italian, but I would die without soda, chocolate, apples, hamburgers and fries…."

Rory nodded in agreement, "Best food ever. Hands down."

"It's your last question, B, choose wisely," Logan told her as he popped the last bite of his veggie-sandwich in his mouth.

She hummed in thought for a moment. There was so much to ask, so much to talk about her mind was on the verge of overload. "Do you have a pet?"

"A pet?" Logan repeated, not finding her question odd at all. "Absolutely not, Finn and I lost a pet-rock, anything living would be out of the question!"

After another round of infectious laughter, somehow, the couple now sat with their foreheads almost touching and his hand laid ever-so-gently on top of hers. The waiter came, took their dessert orders and brought fresh coffee for her and a soda for him.

"Good game," Logan said, breaking the amorous vibes. "You had great questions, Ace," he said, his voice barely above a whisper.

"Ace?"

"You may own a Birkin," he told her, "but you are not a Birkin girl. You are an Ace, world-class, first rate…"

"Okay, okay," she waved as she laughed a little uncomfortably. His comment meant a lot to her; he knew now that she wasn't the Society Persona he thought she was. There was depth to her, class, confidence and a sense of realness that enticed him and inspired his new nick name for her.

"Your questions were good, too," she told him, boldly squeezing his hand.

"You didn't ask me about money or status…"

"I have money and status!"

"Or, about why I didn't call or had my secretary write the note…" He shot her a guilty look as in his minds eye he watched all his points tumble to the ground.

She brushed a loose strand of hair from her face, "I know why you did it and I get it. It's okay."

"I'm sorry," he said sincerely. "I really am." He continued to gaze at her and it sort of made her nervous. She was sure he was at least a little bit interested in her and she had never quite shared such an intense conversation like that with a practical stranger. It was a little bizarre.

"I think we've both passed our question limit," Rory said as he snapped out of his daze.

"Perhaps," he acknowledged taking a sip of his Coke. "But I've got one more question." He didn't wait for her to grant him permission – he needed to get this off his chest right now, before he kicked himself for being stupid and breaking his rules. "Would you want to go out with me?"

"Like a date?" she asked a little hesitantly. He nodded, with hopeful eyes as he felt a tiny ball of anxiousness form in the pit of his stomach and he briefly wondered if this was what rejection felt like, but she didn't shoot him down.

Instead she bit her bottom lip coyly and nodded enthusiastically, "I'd love to."

Huge, insane smiles appeared on both their faces and both were about to speak, but the loud buzzing of a cell phone interrupted them.

Logan groaned and looked at his cell. It was Mitchum and the clock in the corner of his cell let him know that he was about two hours late for his meeting…..

What did you think?

I noticed a drop in the reviewers for the last two chapters and some reviews requesting for more information about their pasts. It's your story as much as mine so I thought long and hard for a way for it to come together in a semi-creative way and the result is chapter 8.

I guess its just important to know that Logan and Rory are complicated with complicated (romantic) pasts, but as of this chapter they are both ready for dating! Exciting!

I hope I got that across and that you liked it!! Anyway questions about this story, other stories or anything else just ask me (but if you are asking me stuff in the reviews, sign in so I can reply, or just PM me, okay! I hate it when someone asks a question and then I can't contact him/her with the answer!!)

And finally – thank you all so much for reading ALL of my stories. It means so much to me!! Love!