Disclaimer: I may have my own ideas about how I want their story to carry on, but sadly I do not own Gilmore Girls or these characters. If you're reading this, you too are a fan and know this already.
Logan's POV:
It's Wednesday now, two days since my dad signed the Agreement. Rory and I are sitting in first class pods on a flight from London to New York City and it's finally sunk in that my plan is coming to a head. I am on my way to tell my dad that I have taken a sledgehammer to his grand dynastic plan. The last two days have been a whirlwind, packing up my life in London and making arrangements to have everything shipped stateside.
Rory and I were cuddled up on the couch, too overjoyed to make it to the bed to celebrate on Monday when my phone announced a new email from my dad. I was almost afraid to look at it, fearing that something in my plan had gone wrong, that he was reneging already. Instead it was a summons. Having wrapped up the Burgess account shortly after my return from Hartford nearly two months ago, and getting Mitchum's seal of approval on my plan for the New York papers, the only matter left to tie up while I was in London was the Employment Agreement. With the Agreement signed, dad saw no need for me to linger in England and was emailing me to let me know that he had instructed David to step into my position on an interim basis. I was to be in Hartford to meet with my father on Saturday to discuss my new role, and to help interview the candidates for my replacement in New York the following week. I would then have a week to "put my affairs in order" before I was expected to start my new position with HPG. Dad didn't explain what exactly he meant by that, but I know better than to question it. I will gladly take the time off. I can only assume that he intends for me to use this time to find a place in New York with Odette.
I'm pulled from my thoughts when I hear Rory speaking with the flight attendant.
"I'm sorry, did I just hear you ask for a salad?" I ask her as the flight attendant retreats to the galley.
"What? I eat salad!" She insists.
"Really? You used to insist that the marshmallows in Lucky Charms counted as a serving of fruit. And strawberry poptarts. And –"
"Fine!" she pouts, "It's weird. I admit it. But your baby wants a salad."
I smile at her. My baby. I still can't believe we're having a baby, but I like the sound of that. My baby. My baby with Rory. I take a minute to examine her face. "Are you feeling better Ace?" She still looks a little pale. She hasn't been sick every morning since she arrived, but pretty close. The nausea and coffee restrictions combined have not made for the easiest mornings, that's for sure. I tried to let her sleep in this morning while I finished packing the last of my things and loading the bags that I couldn't live without for the week or so until the rest of my things arrive into the car with my driver, but when I went to wake her to leave for the airport I found her curled up on the bathroom floor again. She seemed to be better by the time we reached the airport and she insists this is normal for pregnant women, but I think I need to do some research of my own to make sure.
"I'm okay Logan, stop worrying" she smiles softly at me. "There's so much else to worry about! How much are you going to tell your dad on Saturday?"
I've been thinking about this, but haven't broached the topic with Rory yet. "Well… I'm telling him that I broke off that farce of an engagement. But I don't think I'm going to tell him about us, about the baby yet." I see a flash of hurt in her eyes before she drops her gaze to her lap.
"Oh. Okay." she says quietly and I can tell what she is thinking.
"Ace, look at me" I say, but she continues to stare intently at her hands, which are fidgeting nervously on her lap. "Rory." That draws her gaze. "Hey, I'm not ashamed of this, of us. I would shout it from the rooftops, tell anyone who will listen but I really think that it will be best if I wait a bit, let him cool off after his inevitable blow-up when he hears that his plans to invade the French market are up in smoke. I'm afraid if I tell him now that he will try to sabotage everything just out of spite." Please, believe me.
"I guess that makes says" she says, finally breaking her silence. Oh thank God!
"I've also decided not to wait until Saturday." I continue. "Storming the castle worked out pretty well for me the last time. If I wait until Saturday he will have the editors of all the New York papers there to discuss my plans, and I know dad's reaction to this will be 100 times worse if I tell him in front of those guys. I need to catch him unprepared, so I'm going to show up at his office Friday afternoon. Plus, that gives him an extra day to seethe and think up all the ways he is going to make me pay by Monday when we start interviewing for my replacement." She's starting to look upset again. Shit. "Ace, that was a joke."
"I know, but it's true! It just sucks, I mean my mom is making a real effort to get over her problems with you, but your family all still hates me! I'm sure even Honour hates me after our breakup after college!"
"Ace. My family doesn't hate you. They don't know you. By the time you graduated Yale Dad was actually a big fan of yours. Said you made me grow up, made me step up. And on a more superficial level mom was impressed by your work with the DAR. Grandpa died a few years ago, but that curmudgeony old bastard didn't like anyone! And much like me, Honour has always loved you. She has been pushing me to call you since your second week on the Obama campaign trail. She wouldn't even refer to Odette by her name, she just called her "that girl". She didn't talk to Mitchum for almost 4 months after his stunt in Marseilles." She looks stunned, and I crack a smile. "So Lorelai isn't going to try to castrate me when we show up at her house tonight?"
"Wellllll…" she starts, giving me her wide eyes-innocent look. Oh no. "She wouldn't, no. But we're not exactly going to Mom and Luke's today. I may have made other arrangements while you were packing this morning, before baby decided that typing emails in the morning makes us nauseous." I've seen that face before.
"Oh? What's with the smirk. Why are you giving me that look you gave me before you told me you were moving back in with Paris Gellar?" Her smirk turns into a full blown smile. "No! Paris? You want us to stay with Paris Gellar?" My outburst is loud enough that the people around us are turning to look, and Rory starts to laugh.
"It's only for a night or two Logan! I just thought it would be nice to be in the city instead of you having to drive in to meet with your dad. And Paris has mellowed a bit… well that's a lie. Paris is still Paris. But I think she will be happy to see you, she's hated how miserable I've been." She must be able to read the skepticism on my face, because she continues. "Well… happy on the inside at least. You know, covered up with maybe a bit of hostility and threats on the outside. But secretly pleased."
I have to laugh. "Whatever you say Ace. Can't we just stay at a hotel?" I try not to whine the last part but she is onto me.
"Come on Logan, it will be fine. And I have some boxes of clothes and stuff at Paris' house, I can only wear the same two outfits so many times! And I was thinking I would head to Stars Hollow for the weekend since you'd be meeting with your dad on Saturday and then getting ready for your interviews next week, but since we'll have the whole weekend now instead of just Sunday, maybe I should stay in the city and we can start to look for a place of our own!" I agree as the flight attendant stops by our seats with salads for each of us, happy to turn my mind to thoughts less frightening than a week filled with a surprised Paris Gellar and an angry Mitchum Huntzburger.
Rory insists that we take a cab instead of calling the car service, paranoid that Mitchum would somehow hear about us arriving together if we didn't continue to "keep things on the down low". I laugh at her attempt at street slang, but I become less and less amused as I watch the cab driver's GPS show us getting closer and closer to Paris's house. I need to break the silence before my nerves get any worse. "So, what's Paris been up to anyways?"
"Well, in the end she couldn't decide between med school and law school. She ended doing a joint J.D. and M.D. at Harvard and then did her residency here in New York. I don't know when exactly she had time in there, but at some point she passed the bar too. Her and Doyle got married while she was still at Harvard, and she was just about finished her residency when she had a miscarriage. She hadn't even known that she was pregnant. The doctors did some tests, and I can't remember the medical name but it was like Meredith Grey you know" Rory looks at me expectantly but I have no idea what she is talking about. My blank expression must give it away so she continue. "A hostile uterus. Basically they said it would be unlikely that she could ever carry a baby to term. So she started looking into a surrogate and then, well…you know Paris. She decided that she could so a better job than any of the surrogate options out there so she started her own company. And now her and Doyle have two kids, Henry and Emma. Her and Doyle are separated because he's writing screenplays and likes Michael Bay movies and band t-shirts."
I laugh. "Sounds like she's been busy" I say as the cab comes to a stop in front of a tall brick house. I take a long pause before opening my door and I can see that Rory is amused. I reluctantly step out onto the sidewalk, but I know that there is no putting this off. Show time.
Rory's POV:
As I finish telling Logan the story of how Paris's business came to be I wonder for the first time how Paris will take the news of my impending motherhood. It was about 6 months after Logan and I ran into each other in Hamburg and started secretly seeing each other again when Paris found out. I had met her at her office for lunch after flying in from London, and I stepped out to use the washroom. I forgot my phone on her desk and while I was out of the room Logan texted me to ask me how my flight home was. Paris saw the message and is smart enough to put two and two together. When I came back into the room she went off on me. She has always been outspoken in her dislike of Logan but she told me things that day that I was just not ready to hear. It was a lecture about how Logan and I could never be casual, about how I was setting myself up to be hurt and how I should be smart enough to know our arrangement would never work. I ran out of her office and we did not speak for weeks afterwards. We cautiously made up, but since that time there has been a strict yet unspoken rule of don't ask, don't tell when it comes to the blonde nervously tapping his fingers on the seat beside me.
I can't help but be amused. Of all the outrageous and death-defying things that Logan has done in his life, he is visibly nervous to walk into Paris's house. As we step out of the cab onto the sidewalk I hold on to the faint hope that Paris will be gentle with us, but I am not holding my breath. When I emailed her this morning about staying the night I meant to tell her I would not be alone, I really did. But then I thought it might be a good idea to tell her in person, to not give her a day to think about it and prepare her plan of attack. Now that we're standing on her front step about to ambush her I am rethinking that decision, but it's too late now. I grab Logan's hand and we walk up the stairs together.
"Should I ring the doorbell?" Logan asks, and I realize that I have just been standing at the top of the stairs staring at the door for a moment now.
"No," I respond slowly. "Paris doesn't like it when I ring the doorbell and she has to come all the way downstairs to open the door. It's a long story, way too many stairs. We should just go in." I take a deep breath. Show time.