This is me trying to make good on weekly updates! How 'bout that, huh?

Reminder: Logan picked up Rory from Lorelai and Chris's and it was a little icy. And even though Logan is supposed to treat Rory like a sister, and Rory is to view Logan strictly as a mentor type person, both of our favorites are struggling with this seemingly straightforward task. This chapter is their flight across the pond and meeting Logan's very fabulous room mate.

I know it's been a while, but thank you so much for a the reviews, adds and favs. There seems to be a rather large following for this story, which is very flattering to know. Ah, I just hope it doesn't dissapoint. Nevertheless, don't forget to review!

Disclaimer: I don't own GG. And I'm not a big drinker, even though in my stories I show an extensive amount of cocktail-making knowledge.

After Rory acknowledged she'd crossed the line – mentor, mentor, mentor! – she quickly reached for her Birkin tote and pulled out a tattered copy of a novel. It was obvious it had been read many, many times before but it was effective tool in closing off all lines of communication with Logan. It saved her from crossing any more lines and it probably saved Logan from a telling-off later, since he now had nothing better to do than to attend to the piles of paperwork that awaited him.

At first, the book failed to shield her from Logan. He doesn't need the distraction, she told herself, as she tried keeping her gaze focused on the letters on her page, but she couldn't stop her gaze from traveling to him.

A millisecond of eye-contact. A small smile. The hint of redness on her cheeks. And back to reading.

Logan couldn't help but wonder if the girl had received her own set of special instructions ("Treat. Like. Brother.") from Lorelai and Christopher, though, at the same time, he couldn't imagine innocent Ace needing anything of the sort.

Still, her frequent looks in his direction felt nice, familiar even, since he had grown accustomed to it.

Midway through the flight whatever six-hundred page novel Rory was reading managed to keep hold of her attention since the seemingly innocent glances in his direction became scarce. To Logan, it didn't matter as it gave him ample opportunity to repay the favor.

He laid his fountain-tipped pen down on the tray table in front of him and fixed his eyes on her. Rory sat crossed-legged in the leather chair, the book open on her lap, her back arched forward. He wondered briefly why she assumed this slightly awkward position. Wouldn't holding the book up to her face be more comfortable?

Her hands were occupied, though. She used her left hand to cup her chin, keeping her head stable as her eyes flew over the pages, which she flipped every few moments with her right hand.

Logan stared at her, watching as she soaked up every letter, word and sentence, her expression changing every so often as she became more and more enthralled by the narrative of her book.

Typically, this type of behavior didn't strike him as sexy but watching her, making the book her world, was. She didn't care that her hair threatened to fall from its ponytail, or that her coffee beside her had become cold many hours ago.

It was the intensity with which she read that made it sexy. Of course, Logan himself was an intense person. He lived a life of extremes and not averages. Showing such a passion for something as common as reading, lead him to believe that she carried the same attitude for other areas in her life.

He smirked as he caught himself tallying a few more points to her side.

Suddenly, the jet dropped a few thousand feet, signaling the start of its descend into London Gatwick Airport.

"What was that?" Rory gasped.

Logan looked up and met her frightened eyes. "They just started the descend."

Rory pressed her flat palm to her chest and sighed in relief. Whatever concentration she had during her reading session was gone and had been replaced by a genuine fear, which Logan couldn't help but find endearing.

He reached over, taking her sweaty palms in his hands and smirked. "We'll be on the ground in fifteen minutes."

"Landing is the most dangerous part of the flight…" Rory muttered as her eyes darted around the cabin nervously.

"Actually, statistically speaking take-off and landing are both equally dangerous."

Rory turned her head slightly to meet his gaze. A faint smirk was plastered on his face. "Are you making that up?" she asked.

"Perhaps," he said with a sly smile. "But did it work?"

A moment of silence passed between them as Rory contemplated her answer to his question. Finally, she nodded slowly.

"Yes."

Even though it was dark as the plane touched down, Rory could clearly see the stretch limo that awaited them at the gate.

"Is that for us?" she asked, a flirtatious smile appearing on her face, "or did I miss the memo that the president was on this flight, too?"

Logan smiled. It was obvious that Rory was happy to be back on the ground, where Mother Nature intended her to be.

"It's for us," he said as he unclasped his seatbelt. "You got special treatment during your last international flight with me…"

He paused for a moment, and popped open the overhead bin before continuing with a smirk, "..why mess with tradition?"

"Hardly tradition!" Rory laughed in return, "My dad arranged that. I didn't even want it, remember?"

Logan put his roller-bag on the floor next to hers and looked up, meeting her gaze. "But you deserve it, B."

Maybe it was the jetlag catching up with her, or maybe it was the way he looked, with his white shirt slightly wrinkled from the long flight, and the sleeves rolled up in a sexy way. Ruffled hair. The smile he flashed her as he spoke. The happy in his eyes. She didn't know, but that moment in which his comment flowed so effortlessly from his lips, caught her off guard. Stealing looks and flirtatious remarks she could do – at a certain point in her life it was even her expertise – but the genuineness with which he spoke made her a little uncomfortable.

He, however, appeared to be unaffected.

"You too," Rory mumbled and upon realizing that she'd yet again managed to cross the line, she got up from her seat, took her bag from Logan, smiled politely and steered the conversation far away from any lines and back to much safer territory. "So, does London have coffee?"

Logan laughed as he gestured for her to lead the way. "It's almost eleven at night!"

"So?" Rory shrugged, "Don't you drink Coke at eleven at night?"

"Mostly with rum."

"Spanish Coffee works for me," Rory shrugged with a smile, "Tia Maria, Rum and Hot Delicious Coffee…"

"Coffee and liquor?" He made his repulsion for that specific combination clear in his tone.

"Best of both worlds, baby," Rory said as the pair made their way to the limo. "Of course, there's the classic Irish Coffee…"

"Coffee, whiskey and whipped cream?"

Rory nodded, clearly pleased that at least Logan had some knowledge of her beloved coffee drinks.

"When God wants to add a zip to his cup…" She paused thoughtfully, before continuing on her rambling mission to educate Logan on all things coffee and alcohol. "Then if you are in the mood for a little almond taste whip up and Almond Coffee Cream. Got some molasses around and don't know what to do? Coffee, rum and molasses makes you a delicious cup of Cajun Coffee. Oh, you know what's really good, too?"

"No, what?" Logan answered, with his smirk firmly back in place.

Rory didn't notice his look; she was far too busy thinking of coffee. "A colonial coffee."

Logan's scrunched up his face in disgust, causing Rory to laugh. "Don't knock it 'till you've tired it. Kahlua, brandy, cinnamon, whipped cream and coffee – now how does that sound bad?"

He shrugged and tilted his head to the side. "The coffee part, ruining the beautiful brandy and Kahlua part. "

"The coffee part?" Rory copied his words, though her tone was laced with mock-outrage.

"What can I say?" Logan shrugged, locked his eyes on Rory and put on a helpless look. Slowly, her mock-raged features softened and she rolled her eyes.

He laughed at her little display of dramatics and she cracked up with him.

"Oh, Ace," he sighed, trying to catch his breath from laughing, "it's too bad they don't serve booze at Starbucks!"

She opened her mouth to contradict him, but he was quick to interject. "I know, beer and wine in its test stores! I read the paper, Bee, in fact, some might say it's my job to know what goes into HPG produced papers, seeing as we own such a great deal of them…."

Rory pouted slightly, as if she was mad at him for mocking her and her facts. Logan, however, saw through this façade and carried on. "And even at that, Starbucks certainly doesn't serve liquor, proving my point all along!" he raised his index finger, emphasizing his so-called point.

She cocked her head to the side, pout still in place. "Which was?"

"To go to the Logan Huntzberger Home Bar which is open all hours of the night…."

Rory's pout instantly changed into a megawatt smile and she laughed. "Well, that sounds like an excellent idea."

"You really are like the Prince of all Media," Rory noted as she stepped out of the elevator. Two strong men assisted her with her bags, though Logan dismissed the men who were sent to help him with his single piece of luggage.

Logan remained quiet as he tried to fish his keys from his pocket. "It is what it is, you know," he sighed, suddenly sounding very tired, as he turned to look at her.

She shot him a small smile and he opened the door, gesturing for her to go first. It was a grand space, certainly fit for a legitimate prince. It screamed bachelor pad in decoration, what with the sleek leather couches, white walls, some covered with abstract artworks, others decorated with a flat screen TVs.

In a glance around the room, she spotted a pool table, a wet bar and a knight in shining armor, though she stopped dead in her tracks as her eyes landed on a figure on the couch, apparently sleeping in a light-blue fuzzy short robe.

A girl. There was a girl in Logan's apartment. Rory tried to counter the wave of jealously rushing through her body with her mentor-mantra, but then she saw that the person lying on Logan's couch had very muscular, and not to mention, hairy legs.

Rory turned her head and saw Logan instructing the men to bring Rory's bags up one floor to her room. It was nice of him to take the role Mitchum gave him so seriously.

"So, who is the boy in the robe?" she asked as soon as Logan was finished with the men.

He turned, and heaved a heavy sigh. "That would be Finn."

"The Australian?"

"The one and only." He was pleasantly surprised she remembered that from their conversation during their first meet. "He takes the whole mi casa thing a little far…" Logan ran a hand through his hair and shook his head.

"Finn!" he called and made his way further into the room to wake up his friend. "Finn!" He whacked Finn's head with the copy of Cosmo that was on the coffee table.

"His, not mine," Logan said as he held up the magazine to Rory, before taking it to Finn's head once again.

"Interesting choice," Rory replied as she made her way into the living area. "Purchased for pictures or articles?"

"Oh no, articles," Logan said seriously, "he thinks he'll gain a better understanding of women."

Rory shifted her gaze from the magazine down to Finn and back up to Logan. "Looks like your boy needs all the help he can get!" she said with an amused smile.

"Oh, B!" Logan inhaled sharply, his tone laced with humor, "don't let him hear you say that. Too many beautiful girls have crushed his soul."

Rory's eyes dropped to Finn. Another compliment. Effortlessly. Moving on. Rory reached out and grabbed hold of Finn's shoulder and started to shake it violently. "Wake up! Wake up!"

"Interesting technique, Ace," Logan said teasingly.

Rory didn't look up, but continued shaking the sleeping boy. Finally, after a minute or so, Finn stirred and his eyes fluttered open to meet Rory's.

"Hello love," he mumbled in his groggy morning voice. "Last night was marvelous wasn't it?"

"Not really," Rory answered truthfully as the majority of her night had been spent on an airplane.

"What? Finn always makes sure the ladies have a good time; it's a guarantee. Complete satisfaction, every time."

"Wonder what customer satisfaction rate is," Rory quipped, more to herself than anyone else, though she heard Logan chuckle. Meanwhile, Finn's hand had started traveling up Rory's arm, a half-hearted attempt to get her to lie down next to him. Logan nipped this activity in the bud and whacked his friend with the magazine one more time.

"Get up, Finn. You didn't go out, it's midnight, you fell asleep on the couch drinking white wine and reading Cosmo!"

This information sobered the boy up instantly and he sat up straight. "Thank God! I thought I'd have to change the information on my card, and satisfaction 99.9 percent of the time doesn't have the same ring to it, does it?"

"No, it doesn't," Rory laughed shaking her head. Finn rested her eyes on her for a moment, before looking at Logan.

"And who might this fine creature be, mate?"

"Rory."

"Rory-Rory?" Finn inquired with a raised eyebrow.

"Not many other Rory's," Logan said through a tight smile. Finn was pretty well-informed about the Rory-situation, in that she was a girl who practically put a stop to Logan's man-whoring ways. Of course, Huntzberger claimed he was too busy at work, trying to impress Mitchum, though Finn knew better. Of course, Finn knew nothing about the latest change of events.

Rory exchanged a glance between Logan and Finn. Obviously, Logan had mentioned her to him.

Interesting.

"Lorelai Leigh, actually," she said and stuck out her hand for Finn to shake. He pressed a gentlemanly kiss on it and Rory smiled.

"And what brings you to rainy London, love?"

"The writers program."

Finn's eyes shot to Logan, though the Australian decided to drill his friend for answers later. "The writers program. You know mate here is a bigwig."

"I do," Rory smiled, "I'm actually staying in the guest apartment upstairs."

Finn resisted the urge to shoot Logan another look. "So, you'll be staying with us for quite a while, then, huh?"

Rory nodded, suddenly very excited about the FTF-writers program.

"Well, isn't that lovely," Finn said, "we should go out and celebrate!"

"Actually, we were going to make Irish Coffees," Logan interjected.

"Spanish Coffees," Rory corrected absentmindedly and Logan sent a smile in her direction. "Spanish Coffees, right."

"Coffee?" Finn couldn't help but smile slyly at his friend. "Coffee, coffee bean, coffee-coffee?"

"Yes, coffee."

"I was just double-checking, mate," Finn raised his hands defensively.

Logan dug his hands in his pockets. "Rory likes coffee."

"Very well then," Finn said and turned his head back to Rory. "We'll give you the grand tour of the kitchen."

"Great!" Rory clapped her hands excitedly, "I'm starving!" Rory got up and started to follow Logan into the kitchen.

"You eat?" Finn asked, eyeing her tiny frame. She turned her head and smiled coyly at the boy. "Only three times a day, not counting snacks," she quipped, before rounding the corner to the kitchen.

"Fascinating," Finn mumbled to himself. "Marvelous creature."

A minute later, he found Logan and Rory engaged in some verbal combat at the counter.

"Instant?" Rory gasped, clenching a jar of powered coffee. "Instant coffee?"

"What's wrong with instant?" Logan shrugged as he tried to take the jar from her.

"Instant coffee is the reason why tiny babies cry on twelve-hour flights! Instant coffee is the reason Santa Claus only comes once a year! Instant coffee is the reason for Monday mornings and bad hair days! Instant coffee is the reason for root canals!"

"Dramatic much, B?" Logan laughed and attempted once more to take the jar from her. Her grip must have loosened, for this time he was able to take it from her. Logan saw the absolute repulsion written on her face and laughed as he scooped the instant mix into a large mug.

"Don't knock it 'till you try it."

She scoffed – he was using her words on her! Rory waited a beat, before a cunning smile tugged at her lips. "Only if you make yourself a cup."

Logan dropped his head in defeat. "Fine, fine! I'm doubling the shot of rum, though!"

"Obviously, you've got to mask the instant somehow!"

"Jeez, B!" He tried to sound mad, but he couldn't contain his laughter. Trying to save some face, he pulled open a drawer and pulled out a folder with take-out menus. "The ones in the back are 24-hour joints. Why don't you go out to the living room and look through the menus. I'll bring your coffee in a minute?"

"Real smooth, Hugo," Rory said, causing his face to break out in a smile once more. He refused to make a quip about them agreeing his nickname should be "Boss" and Rory left the room, binder in hand, smile on her face.

"Well, well," Finn said, leaning against the fridge. "What happened between us, Logan?"

"What to you mean, Finn?" Logan asked, laughter still lacing his tone from his mock-argument with Rory.

"I thought we had the kind of relationship that was open and honest?"

Logan could always appreciate Finn's theatrical tendencies and decided that he was up to play the part.

He shot Finn a firm look. "But we do."

Finn stoked his chin with thumb and index finger, as if he was stroking his beard. "Really? Do you really believe that?"

"Yes."

"Then why didn't you tell me that Rory, Rory-Rory, of all the possible Rory's was coming to stay with us for three months?"

Logan shot Finn a half-smile. It was clear Finn didn't like being out of the loop. On the other hand, it really wasn't any of his business. "It happened kind of fast," Logan offered by way of explanation. "And technically, she's staying with me – you are a guest here," he added as a gentle reminder.

"Harsh, mate. Really, kick a man while he's down."

"Jenna kick you out again?" Logan asked.

"No, Vivian."

"Really, man, with all your cash buy a damn place," Logan laughed as he was busy measuring out the rum-shots, "Or go to one of the fifteen thousand Rothschild Hotels in the world…"

Finn shrugged at Logan's comments. "Make mine a triple."

He splashed a little more rum in Finn's cup. "I hear those Rothschild Hotels are even more comfortable than home."

"Clever use of the slogan, mate. Really!" Finn deadpanned, before deciding to get back on topic. "Why focus on me, when your live got a whole lot more interesting?"

"Please!" Logan waved his suggestion away. "She's in the writers program. I'm in the writers program. Her family didn't want her to travel alone because of her background…"

"…Gilmore-Hayden. Big names, mate," Finn remarked, though Logan just shrugged it off.

"So, that's why she's here."

"Uh-huh," Finn nodded unimpressed. Logan ignored him as he finished loading the whipped cream on the coffees, picked up the tray and headed off towards the living room.

"Well, there was quite a display of animosity there. Fighting about coffee this early in the mission?" Finn probed again.

"We weren't fighting…." Logan said in a semi-exasperated tone, but lowered his tone immediately as he saw Rory's stretched out form on the couch. "She must be asleep."

"Splendid!" Finn rubbed his hands together excitedly and took his coffee from the tray. "So, what's the deal?"

"There is no deal, Finn!" Logan sighed. "I'm her babysit. Older brother. Mentor if you will. There is nothing between us."

"Nothing?" Finn asked with a crooked eyebrow.

"Nothing."

"So, you don't fancy kissing her, don't want to hold her hand, cuddle…"

Logan shot his friend a dirty look. "You've been reading too many of those fucking girly magazines!"

"Alright," Finn waved his free hand. "So, you don't want to bang her 'till she's dizzy, make her scream your name..."

"Finn!" Logan yelled in a hushed tone.

"Mate!"

"No, Finn," Logan sighed. "She's like, my sister."

"Yeah, a really hot sister, who is cool and funny and likes her some liquor and gives you goo-goo eyes!"

"More like the clingy, annoying baby sister," Logan scoffed. Saying he'd rather not have this conversation with Finn was an understatment. This didn't even make it on to his to-do list, but he knew Finn wouldn't be happy until he had an answer - even if it was an outright lie. Maybe he would have liked to confide in Finn, but Logan knew he couldn't run the risk of any of this getting back to Mitchum, or worse. Rory. Even though rejection didn't seem like a realistic possibility between the two of them - one never knew.

"Whatever you say, mate." Finn paused, before giving it one last go. "What about the goo-goo eyes?"

"Figment of your imagination," Logan said tightly.

Finn looked down at the coffee and took a sip. "Good God and all that is holy! This stuff is revolting! Instant coffee! Beer is the only substance that can fix this poor excuse of a drink!"

"Alright," Logan said, shaking his head at his friend's antics, "but let's move the party to the movie room." He cast a longingly gaze to the couch. "Rory's sleeping."

"That she is," Finn agreed, before setting off in the direction of the movie room. Logan waited for a moment, debating whether to bring Rory an extra blanket, or pillow, but decided against it and followed Finn for a couple of beers in the movie room.

Cliffie? You be the judge!

I love Finn just as much as I love Rogan and Lorelai so that says a lot! I'm glad he's back and he'll be a pretty key character in the plot, at least for the next few chapters. I know you want Rogan to happen in this story and it will. It will.

But it's a Game and we are no where near the last round. Let me know what you think – it's very much a WIP and the plot changes by the day, so anything you want to happen put it out there and I might be inspired! Review, review and love, love!