Disclaimer: Amy Sherman-Palladino has claimed lordship over these characters, but I've decided to usurp her power for the time being and will them to my bidding.

A/N: I'm the worst. I am shamed. So, I'm an insane person and moved across the country back to dear California (in case you can't tell, this story is basically a long love letter to my state)... and now am moving back to Raleigh. All within six months time. That does not excuse my serious lack of updating, I am aware. But... gas prices.

Chapter 6: A Friend in California

L.A. traffic is bad this time of year
But there's a friend of yours in California
Sure wishes you were here
And as you lay your head on your pillow tonight just remember
There's a friend of yours in California sure misses you

-Merle Haggard

A small sigh and some shifting in bed roused Finn from his sleep. Slowly he let his eyes adjust to the dark room and then memories from the night before started to seep back in. He was in bed with Rory Gilmore (again) and Logan was so going to kill him (again) for this. He rolled over and checked the time before crawling out of bed, careful not to wake up his companion. She looked so cute, and he was pretty sure she was going to have a hangover twice as bad as his when she woke up.

She didn't even move as he tripped over his suitcase and cursed and hit the wall. What a trooper. He was almost jealous of her ability to sleep this well, especially when he couldn't. He pulled on a pair of shorts and a shirt and grabbed his pack of cigarettes and lighter, making sure that one of the joints he'd rolled was in it, then headed for the back of the hotel.

It was sprinkling. Finn cursed and hide under an overhang as he lit the joint and inhaled deeply. Soon the headache and the nausea would subside and he'd be able to deal with Rory's hangover. He chuckled to himself, then coughed. She was going to be fun today. She was fun everyday. Damnit. Between getting her drunk and developing some sort of weird crush on her, Logan was not going to be pleased. And Logan would be able to tell. No matter how he denied it, he was a great reporter. And excellent perception came with that talent.

After stamping out the burned paper, he opened his pack again and pulled out a cigarette and sat down. Between all the dates his parents had been setting him up on and how killer finals had been, he'd needed this trip. Granted, he wished he'd gone on it with Colin, but Rory wasn't bad company. Hell, that was half the reason he'd wished Colin had gone in her place. Maybe he'd get Stephanie to convince her to dye her hair red.

That wasn't a good plan either.

Finn took one last drag of his cigarette and put it out. He got to his feet and inhaled deeply before going back inside, stopping to grab the newspaper from the lobby. Rory was still asleep in the same position, so he quietly stripped down and got into the bathtub with his paper.

It wasn't long before he heard her moving around in the room, before the door to the bathroom opened and she shuffled in to refill the water cup he'd left next to her. She didn't even blink as she turned around and sunk to the ground, putting her head on the cool tile. "I think it's a tumor," she moaned. "I developed a beer tumor. It's going to explode."

"It's not a tumor," he replied in complete deadpan. "Did you take the Advil and Tylenol concoction I left beside the water?"

"You mean the reenactment of Valley of the Dolls on the nightstand beside me? I took about half of it. I'm pretty sure taking all of it would have caused liver failure."

Finn raised an eyebrow. "You spent all night drinking, but now you're worried about liver failure? You're a strange one, Ms. Gilmore."

She winced at the mention of alcohol. "I'm so sorry for-"

"Okay, I'm gonna have to stop you right there for a few reasons. A) You're really going to apologize to me, of all people, for drinking? B) What is there to apologize for? We fucking rocked beer pong, then you were concerned for my health. Yeah, you're such a bitch when you're drunk, love," he finished, complete with an eyeroll.

"I just don't get drunk that often."

"And that's your choice. But to let you know, you're just as fun drunk as you are sober. Nothing to be ashamed about."

"This hangover says otherwise."

"Well, your hangover can suck it. We're gonna have an awesome day." He folded up his newspaper and set it down on the toilet. "Besides, you aren't even that hungover. It'll be gone after you eat."

Rory groaned and lifted her head up. "You're the expert"

"Don't be a smartass," Finn sang as he stood up in tub. Rory didn't avert her eyes in time and froze as the water trickled down his abs and off his board shorts. She wrinkled her eyes at that.

"You're wearing board shorts," she stated.

"Indeed I am, love. After our last little experience, I decided to be proactive about my hangover needs. No need to feel ashamed," he teased.

Rory just blushed as he wrapped a towel around his waist and accepted the hand he offered to help her up. He pulled her up carelessly, using too much strength, causing her to stumble and brace herself on his chest. The water droplets on Finn's chest dampened her pajamas and his breath hitched as she was pulled nearly flush against him, but she barely noticed. Instead she clutched her palm to her head and snapped her eyes open.

"Too fast," she informed him.

He sighed and lifted her up onto the counter. He dampened a towel and laid it on her forehead. She smiled softly as the warm towel covered her eyes. Finn lifted her feet up on the counter as well and squeezed her hand.

"We'll check out in an hour and then zoo time. Sound like a plan, love?"

She nodded slightly. "You're so good at taking care of people, Finn."

He shrugged, even though she couldn't see him. "It comes with the territory of solely befriending functioning alcoholics," he joked.

"You can't tell, but I'm rolling my eyes at you," she replied.

"What I can't see won't hurt me."

"How very existential of you."

Finn chuckled and pulled the door shut behind him. "Changing now, love. Best stay in the bathroom to protect your fragile virtue."

Once he was safely in the room, Finn let out a long breath he hadn't realized he was holding. He could still feel on his chest where she had touched him earlier. This was incredibly not good.

Finn was right about one thing, and that was that Rory's hangover went away when he took her out to breakfast. She got eggs, bacon, sausage, toast and hashbrowns at a sketchy diner a couple blocks from the zoo. Finn was literally bouncing in his seat waiting for her to finish. She had told him to lay off the coffee he was drinking by the gallon, but he called her a hypocrite and they settled it by getting her her own pot of coffee.

It was a hot day for Denver, nearing 85 degrees. Rory wore a skirt and tank top with flats while Finn wore shorts and a t-shirt. When they got out of the car, he impulsively grabbed her hand and threaded her fingers with his. This startled her, but when she tried to yank her hand away he held it tighter.

"I don't want to get lost," he whined.

She shook her head but didn't try to remove her hand again. Finn knew he was being equal parts selfish and petty, but he really couldn't bring himself to care. For the next two hours he got to pretend that Rory Gilmore was actually his girlfriend and he was at the zoo. Life was good.

"Looks like we left at a pretty good time," Rory commented as she peered up at the sky from the driver's seat. Dark clouds loomed in the sky, threatening rain over the land.

"I think we should have stayed in Denver and had Logan meet us there," Finn pouted from the passenger seat.

"You said the same thing about Lincoln," she pointed out.

"I don't mean it any less." He reached over as he said this and pressed scan on the radio, stopping when he found a radio station he liked. "Well I guess it would be nice, if I could touch your body, I know not everybody has got a body like you!" he sang to her as he walked his fingers teasingly up her arm.

She swatted him away. "You're so silly."

"It's charming, isn't it? Admit it, you're considering leaving Logan for all this."

Rory laughed and shook her head, but didn't reply. "Where did you want to stay tonight?"

"Vegas!"

"That's ten hours away, we'll be getting there when the sun's coming up," she argued.

"Exactly! We'll be going to bed when everyone else is," he retorted.

"Sleep deprivation is considered torture under the Geneva Convention." She didn't need to look over at him to know that he was fluttering his eyes at her. "You can't pout your way out of this one, mister. We're stopping in Utah."

He leaned back in his seat and folded his arms against his chest as he huffed defiantly. "You're so mean. How come it works when you pout?"

"Because my pout is adorable. I learned from the best," she informed him.

"Damn you Gilmore women," he muttered.

She just laughed.

Finn popped a Vicodin and laid down on the bed. If Rory ever realized just how many painkillers he had on his person, she would most likely sit him down and have A Talk with him about his questionable addiction problems. And really, it's only a problem if it's hurting someone, and as far as he knew no one was hurt if he took a Vic now and then because Utah kind of sucked and his options were a Travelodge in a town the size of his pinky or camping.

And fuck camping.

To be honest, the Travelodge wasn't that bad, but he wasn't going to let Rory know that. He was still playing upset about not being able to drive all night and get to Vegas, and even though tomorrow when they got there it was going to be epic, it still kind of sucked. Cause now he was stuck in Utah. And landlocked states kind of bored him.

Everyone assumed that because he was from Australia, he could survive in the wilderness. Sure, he knew how to deal with a sting ray and a jelly fish sting and getting cut by a reef and hell, even how to defend himself against a shark, but those all had one thing in common: ocean. He was an ocean boy. And Salt Lake was certainly no ocean.

Though those Mormons had it right with the polygamy thing.

The painkiller was kicking in finally, and he reclined on the bed and listened to the water running in the bathroom as Rory showered, and then Rory's phone going off and he should probably answer that because it was her mom and the phone was right next to him and she'd probably send the National Guard after him if someone didn't answer.

Things were getting silly. Things were silly.

"Hello, dear Lorelai," he sang into the phone.

"I swear, I've talked to you more on this trip than my own daughter. Is this her way of telling me she hates me? Because I birthed her. She can't hate me. She's supposed to be past that phase anyway," Lorelai replied.

Finn was beginning to regret answering the phone. Things were slowing down but Lorelai was speeding up and maybe he shouldn't have smoked before taking that Vicodin as well. Or maybe he should have just not answered the phone.

"Does this mean that you'll be joining us tomorrow in Vegas? I can book you on a flight out tonight, first class. We'll show those bastards a thing or two about how to do the Strip right."

"I take it she didn't let you drive all night to get there?"

"She's so mean!"

"I am delighted to inform you that she gets that from me."

"You? But you're so charming! I'm tempted to sweep you off your feet, but that would be clearly unfair to your dear beau."

"Yes, that is tempting, but unfortunately it would be terribly unfair to Luke, so you'll have to keep your unrequited love just that," she replied. "Where is my daughter?"

"She's in the shower. We've had a very long day."

"You sound tired."

Finn cursed. She was going to send the National Guard after all. "I don't sleep well in hotels."

"Uh huh. Can you tell Rory to call me when she's out of the shower?"

"I'll make sure it's the first thing she does. Ms. Gilmore?"

"Yes, Finn?"

"I miss you."

That actually elicited a laugh from her, which made him feel better about the safety of his life, at least for the next few days. "Talk to you later."