AN: So I wanted to address something I got a lot of comments on last chapter because I know for every one of you who leaves a review there are about 40 that don't (hint hint) which means there are probably quite a few more of you who feel the same way.

See, the thing is, a lot of you seem to feel that Rory and Logan need to communicate and tell each other how they feel. And well, I don't want to tell you all that you are wrong but...you're wrong ;) I mean, yes, their communication sucks. That's just how their characters are and when I write, I try to stay true to the characters as much as possible. On top of that, a storyline needs conflict to be any good. We all love watching YouTube videos of Pandas adopting baby kittens and the like, but that level of fluff can't sustain a whole story. Of course there will be plenty of conflict that doesn't revolve around the will-they-get-their-shit-together dynamic, but for now, that's where we're at.

But most importantly to THIS story, Rory doesn't even know what she wants and she is not ready for Logan to tell her how he feels and what he wants. I mean, can you imagine Logan coming out and saying "hey, I want to be your baby daddy and also, I'm being shipped to another continent in 6 months." She'd be on the next bus out of town so fast Speedy Gonzalez couldn't catch her. Being with Logan, even if she was able to accept that was what he wants, would either mean Logan leaving everything and running away with her, or her coming out of hiding. And neither of those options are ones that Rory is willing to consider.

So, for now we just need to let them live in the moment until they are on more stable ground. I promise it won't be toooooo long before Logan' can't contain himself anymore and the words come tumbling out. But we need to have patience and let things unfold in their own time. And bonus points—that means we get a few chapters of them being all fluffy in their Boston Bubble while they ignore the elephant in the room. Anyway, enjoy the chapter and thanks for all the feedback.

June 2005

The sound of rustling pages fluttered through the air, breaking the silence as People Magazine landed with a plop on a nearby countertop. "I can't read anymore," Jo moaned. "The words are starting to get all…" she waved her arms in the air, her hands flopping around with abandon, "wooshy."

"That would probably be the drugs," Rory pointed out as she set her own magazine down and shifted to face her new friend.

"Heh," Jo chuckled. "Yeah…drugs are fun. I mean, not that I'm having fun. This isn't really my idea of a rollicking good time. But somehow," Jo shrugged, "I just can't seem to care at the moment."

"Again, that would be the drugs." They'd arrived at the clinic for Jo's appointment about an hour ago. First, they'd met with a health educator who'd gone over all of Jo's options again…all of Rory's options, though the nurse hadn't known about that. Then they'd explained the abortion procedure in detail; Jo was getting a suction abortion, having just missed the window for a medical abortion. Rory had felt Jo's hand clutch hers as the nurse asked her if she was sure she wanted to proceed. The girl was anything but 'wooshy' at that time—and she definitely wasn't having fun. Rory had watched as she bit her lip and nodded, her eyes dull and vacant, her face tense with apprehension.

And then the nurse left, and a few minutes later, the doctor had arrived. She'd given Jo an ultrasound to confirm the length of gestation…10 weeks. Then she'd handed her a little plastic cup full of pills. "The procedure feels different for everyone, but most commonly, it's a moderate discomfort, like bad period cramps. These will help with the pain, and help you to relax for the procedure," the doctor informed her.

That had been about 20 minutes ago, and clearly, they were kicking in.

"And what would you know about drugs Miss Goody Two-Shoes?"

"Hey, I've taken drugs before," Rory protested. Even here in this whole new place where no one knew her and she was a pregnant runaway, all anyone saw was the good girl; some innocent waif with no edge. She couldn't possibly do drugs…or jump off seven story scaffoldings…or relentlessly pursue a story. She was forever destined to be the well-behaved girl who followed all the rules. And like the quote said… 'well behaved women seldom made history.'

"Tylenol doesn't count."

"I wasn't talking about Tylenol," Rory pouted.

"Neither does Nyquill."

"It just so happens," Rory huffed, crossing her arms over her chest. "I've taken Vicodin before."

"Prescribed to you by a licensed physician?"

"Hey, it's not like you're hopped up on ecstasy right now, Missy."

Jo quirked a shoulder, pulling her legs up underneath her on the exam chair she was sitting on. "Point taken."

There was awkward silence for a minute. "So…have you?" Rory finally asked. "Ever taken…you know?"

"E?" Jo asked.

"Or any other drugs…of the non-prescription variety."

Jo shrugged. "I smoke sometimes."

"Cigarettes?"

"Eww." Her face scrunched up. "No, weed."

"That's it?" Rory asked.

"That's it…as far as I know," she added. The words were accompanied by a teasing smile but the corners of her eyes were tense, the smile not quite making it all the way up, and Rory was left with the uncomfortable uncertainty of not knowing if she was joking or not.

"As far as you know?"

"Chill," Jo laughed, her reaction seeming less conflicted this time. "You take everything so seriously."

"No I don't," Rory crossed her arms defiantly over her chest.

Jo just chuckled again, rolling her eyes, "So," she asked, changing the subject back, "what was the Vicodin for?"

"Huh?"

"You said you'd taken Vicodin before. Did you get hurt or something?"

"Oh, umm…"Rory hesitated. Should she be revealing the details of her life to a practical stranger? Then again, it's not like Jo was going to figure out who she was just from one story about her past. "I uhh..I got into a car accident with my ex-boyfriend. Although, he wasn't my ex at the time. Actually, he wasn't my boyfriend at the time, I was with…" she trialed off. Talking about Jess and her broken arm was one thing. Talking about Dean was something else entirely.

"Oooh," Jo sat up excitedly. "Who?"

Rory shook her head. "No one, that's not…it doesn't matter."

"Obviously it does, or you wouldn't be so dodgy about it."

"I don't really feel like talking about it."

"Oh come on, Leigh," Jo pleaded. "I'm wearing a hospital gown and sitting in a chair with stirrups. And you are about to watch them stick a vacuum up inside of me and suck out a ball of cells. A ball of cells that could one day have grown into an actual baby. I need a distraction and I think at this point we are officially past the point of secrets."

Were they? Sure, they seemed to have formed some sort of bond. And she owed a lot to Jo. But they were still basically strangers. And Rory had too much at risk to let her guard down. She looked at her hands in her lap as she picked nervously at her cuticles.

"Do you know that you are the only person who knows I'm pregnant? Well, outside of the fine people here at Planned Parenthood."

Rory shrugged her shoulders. "I didn't figure you picked a stranger to be your abortion buddy because your other friends and family had a picnic planned today."

Jo sighed, sucking her lower lip into her mouth for a moment before continuing. "My family is well…they're super religious. And you'd think that getting pregnant outside of marriage would be one of the worst things I could do. But honestly, I think they could forgive me for it. They'd be disappointed, sure; I mean, I was going to be the first Espinosa to graduate college. But no matter how disappointed they were, they'd be there for me. They'd help me raise the kid; they'd babysit so I could work. They'd give me whatever financial support they could. Because that's what family does. They support one another. But what they don't do, is murder their babies."

"That's not what you're…"

"I know…" Jo cut off her protests. "I know that. But that's how they'd see it. They'd see me as a murderer. They could forgive me for having sex, for getting pregnant; they could forgive me for almost anything…except abortion. But I just…I can't do it. I can't have this baby."

Rory didn't know what to say to that. It wasn't exactly the same. To be honest, she wasn't sure how her mother would feel about it. Despite their family history, the topic of abortion never came up. She didn't know if her mom had even considered it; if her dad had suggested it; if her grandparents had alluded to it? She was pretty sure her mom was pro-choice in theory, but on a personal level? The idea had never been broached. The emphasis had always been on one thing and one thing only…don't get pregnant. There was no discussion about what would happen if she did get pregnant because the mere idea was too unfathomable to even consider. Rory knew better than to ever wind up in such a position.

"Dean."

"Dean?"

"My boyfriend…at the time I got into the car accident," Rory admitted. "He actually built me the car that Jess crashed…not that it was Jess' fault. There was an animal in the road. He swerved to avoid it. But it didn't matter, everyone blamed him. It didn't matter that it wasn't his fault or that I agreed to go get ice cream because I wanted an excuse to hang out with him. It didn't matter that I let him drive my car. It didn't matter that I told him to turn right. It was all his fault. It was never my fault. Nothing was ever my fault."

"In my family it was always my fault. I mean, not things that were legitimately other people's faults. It's not like I got blamed for everything. I'm just saying, we were big on personal responsibility. There was no such thing as an accident, or an off day, or just bad luck. When something went wrong, you were expected to own up to it and accept the consequences without question." Jo placed her hands on her stomach. "I guess that's another reason this wouldn't go over well with them. I screwed up. I got pregnant. And now I'm shirking my responsibilities."

"What about your other responsibilities? Your classes? Your career? Your future?"

Jo just shrugged her shoulders. "So," she said instead of answering, "can we circle back to this whole 'Dean made you a car' thing? Because that's either crazy romantic, or just plain crazy."

"Yeah, well," Rory admitted reluctantly. That car had been so romanticized in her head that she never really stopped to see it any other way. But in retrospect, maybe there was more to it than some grand declaration of love. Dean always had been a bit possessive and over the top when it came to her…until he felt sufficiently insecure about his place in her life—at which point he had a bad habit of making a dramatic exit. She was starting to think that maybe the car, like most of their relationship was more about him than it was about her, even though he hid it well. "I always thought it was the first, but these days I'm leaning towards option number two."

"Why is that?"

Rory exhaled, placing her hands over her own stomach to mimic the gesture Jo had made just a minute ago. "It's just…it turns out he's not the guy I thought he was."

"You told him about the baby and he didn't want anything to do with it." Clearly Jo had figured out the unsaid despite her current state of drug-induced haziness.

Rory shook her head. "He went back to his wife."

"Ouch." Jo grimaced awkwardly. "Maybe I do need to rethink that 'Miss Good Two-Shoes,' moniker. Rory straightened up, squaring her shoulders defensively. She'd said more than she should have already. She didn't want to talk about it anymore.

"What about you?" she asked, changing the subject. "You said no one but me knows. That includes the father?"

Jo looked away, crossing her arms over her stomach and seeming to shrink into herself. She suddenly looked so small, so different from the sassy, no nonsense girl who oozed confidence and conviction. "The father is not someone I really want involved. In any of this…in my life…"

"You're broken up?"

"We were never together. I just…it was a mistake. I was upset and I…I did some things I'm not proud of. Honestly, I barely even remember it."

Rory could certainly relate to that. "Dean and I were broken up…again. I was home from college for the weekend and I was a wreck over this other guy I was seeing who hadn't called me. I got so drunk I could barely stand. And Dean was just there, and he got me water and Oreos and he told me he wanted me. And I just wanted to be wanted so badly. Mostly I wanted Logan to want me, but at that point I was willing to take whatever I could get. I don't remember much more than that either."

She looked up to meet Jo's eyes only to see that they were glassy and wet. "I don't think it's really the same," Jo admitted shakily.

"Well, I know it's not exactly…"

"No," she shook her head. "I mean, this wasn't some old flame I was looking for a little comfort in. This wasn't falling into old patterns. This was…" She squeezed her eyes shut, trying to hold back the tears. "God, I was so stupid. I never should have danced with him. I never should have worn that stupid mini-skirt. I never should have…" she choked back a sob and Rory reached out to grab her hand and give it a squeeze.

"Hey!" Rory said gently. "This isn't your fault."

"I know, I just…" she sniffled, pulling her hand back to flick away the tears that were rolling down her cheek. "It's his. It's his fault. But still, if I hadn't…"

"No!" Rory insisted again. "No 'buts,' It doesn't matter what you wore. Or how you danced. It doesn't matter how much you had to drink." Who knew if she'd even had that much to drink; Rory was suddenly struck with the unshakable feeling that Jo wasn't joking before about the drugs. All she'd ever done was marijuana…as far as she knew. God, Rory felt sick to her stomach for her new friend. No wonder she couldn't go through with having the baby.

"I could have stopped it. I could have…" the tears were coming faster now. Rory stood up from her chair and took a seat on the exam table next to the crying girl. She wrapped an arm around her and felt Jo crumple into her side as she sobbed. Rory just sat there and held her until her cries finally died down. After a few minutes, Jo finally pulled back, wiping the tears from her face.

"I hate this guy." Rory told her.

"Me too," Jo admitted as she emitted a sound that was half sob half laugh.

"I really hate him."

"Me too." They were silent again for a couple of minutes. "Leigh?" Jo finally asked.

"Yeah?"

"What's your name…" She looked up to meet her eye. "Really?"

Rory swallowed uncomfortably. But she supposed there really were no more secrets between them. None that mattered anymore anyway. Whatever happened from here on out, they were in this together. With a final nod of determination, she answered. "Rory," she said. "My name is Rory."

November 2005

Logan set the whiskey glasses down, sliding them across the marred wood surface of the table one by one to each of his friends.

"This round's on me, boys," he informed them, pulling up a chair and joining them.

"Well, well, if it isn't Ozzy Osbourne," Colin replied, looking his friend up and down with a hint of surprise. "Here we were thinking you'd retired but it turns out you've decided to grace us with your presence once again."

"You sure you're not too busy biting the heads off of bats to hang with us?"

Logan just sat back and took a sip of his scotch. His friends weren't wrong, he'd clearly been pretty absent lately. He'd gone to see Rory again last week and had again spent the night. He was glad he'd invested in that new bed for her, but even still, no amount of mattress support was going to suffice for the two of them when the bed was barely big enough for a toddler. And there was no room in the apartment for anything bigger. If he planned to continue to sleep over, which he had every intention of doing, he was going to have to figure something else out. This weekend he was thinking he'd surprise her with a hotel room. He was sure she could use a little pampering and a nice, warm bubble bath. And if she tried to object to him spending the money on her, he could easily claim that it was a purely selfish act driven by the need to protect himself from an uncomfortable and unsightly case of scoliosis.

Anyway, the point was, he'd now been to Boston four times in the last month, plus the week in Omaha he'd prefer not to think about. And contrary to popular belief, he did need to put in some work to pass his classes. And with the baby due during winter break, he wanted to get as much work done now as possible. Who knew what would happen with spring semester. Which meant when he was here, he was spending more time studying than hanging out with his friends. He couldn't blame them for pointing out the obvious. Although he'd at least managed to make an appearance at Lizzy Wickerton's epic annual Halloween bash last weekend.

"Where have you been lately?" Robert asked. "You've been so MIA I haven't even had a chance to win any of your father's money at the poker tables in like, a month."

"Seriously, Mate," Finn piped in. "We've had to resort to replacing you with this drongo," He pointed a thumb at Robert. "And we don't even like him."

"The feeling is mutual," Robert replied, completely unfazed.

"Wherever he's been, it sure has put him in quite a cheerful mood." Colin pointed out. "Buying us drinks…buying Robert a drink! And I heard he was even unsarcastically polite to that little sycophant editor of the paper he always used to complain about…what's his name again? Daryl…Donald…Daffy?"

"Doyle," Logan rolled his eyes. Although Doyle wasn't going to be editor for long. Paris was talking over next semester. That was sure to be a joy; the woman had been even more ornery than usual since Rory had left…and Logan had honestly not believed that was possible. There was talk among the board of retracting her appointment before she'd even started. But despite all that, Logan actually felt bad for the woman. Rory had been her best friend; quite possibly her only friend; and she still had no idea where she was or if she was okay. And Doyle was probably the only thing standing between her and a complete Bell Jar style breakdown. "His name is Doyle. And he's not that bad."

"See!" Colin pointed accusingly. "'He's not that bad'? What has gotten into you?"

"I think the question you're looking for is 'who has he gotten into?'" Finn corrected. "I haven't seen the boy this happy since the Tasmanian She-Devil who shall not be named stomped all over his poor, love-struck, little heart."

"Of course!" Colin's eyes brightened excitedly. "Yes! Say it's true. Tell me you're finally back on the wagon."

"He's clearly back on something…but I don't think it's a wagon. Unless wagons have pussies."

"I must say, this is a refreshing change from the mopey Logan doppelgänger that we dragged all across Europe with us. I like you better when you're getting laid."

"You don't know what you're talking about."

"Oh please, you're practically a bright ray of fucking sunshine. There are only two things that could put you in this good of a mood. Either you're finally getting laid again, or you've discovered that you're adopted and your birth parents have the capacity for genuine human emotion and affection thus wiping away years of childhood trauma."

"Or he was abducted by aliens," Finn suggested as an alternative theory.

"It would explain where he's been these past few weeks," Robert agreed.

"Or maybe it's both. Hot alien sex…"

"Or just a good old fashioned anal probing…"

"Well, I'm glad to see you guys have been getting along just fine without me." Logan replied dryly. "Where are Rosemary and Juliet?" He could really use a dose of some feminine energy to temper these idiots.

"Apparently they have some big project for their women's lit class that they had to work on. But it's due Friday so they'll be ready to party it up with us this weekend."

"And I think Rosemary just might get drunk enough to go home with me." Logan grimaced slightly. Jokes about getting girls drunk just to sleep with them weren't going down as well as they used to with him these days, for obvious reasons; even if it was just the usual game that Finn and Rosemary played. But that wasn't the main reason for his facial expression. A facial expression which, despite, the two empty glasses of Scotch next to the half full one Colin was currently nursing, did not escape his friend's notice.

"You're not coming out this weekend," he surmised, the muscles of his face pinching in annoyance. Despite his friends' joking, he knew they were probably starting to get fed up with him.

"I can't, I'm sorry."

"Dude, who is this chick? And is her vagina made of gold or something?"

"Is a vagina made of gold really all that enticing though?" Finn piped in. Colin shot him an annoyed glare and the Australian shut up.

"I thought you were bad when you were with Gilmore. When exactly did you turn into the kind of guy who ditches your friends for a woman?"

"It's not like that!" Logan defended. It sort of was, of course, but Logan couldn't exactly explain the intricacies of the situation to his friends. "It's complicated."

"Right," Colin responded with a sardonic laugh. "Complicated. Well, let me simple it up for you. Everyone here at this table can afford their own damn Scotch. So you don't just get to disappear for weeks on end and then pop in with a round of drinks and think you can just buy your way back into the in crowd."

"That's not what I'm doing."

"No?" Colin challenged. Logan looked around at his other friends who were remaining silent, but the looks on their faces said it all. They were on Colin's side, and he couldn't exactly blame them.

"No," Logan replied weakly.

"Fine," Colin crossed his arms over his chest. "Then tell us, what the hell is so important that you can't miss this weekend?"

Logan looked away guiltily. He'd become pretty adept at avoiding most of his guilt triggers these days when it came to Rory. He was doing what he had to do to look out for his family. But in his own way, Colin and Finn were family too. They'd been with him through over four years of college, through one year-long sojourn through the South Pacific, through three harrowing nights in a Jakartan naval prison. And Colin had been his friend long enough to be with him through an array of boarding schools, six progressively younger step-mothers (on Colin's side), and the death of Logan's grandmother…the only member of his immediately family he could stand besides his sister. "I can't" Logan answered.

"Fine then…" Colin started to push himself up from his seat.

"Wait!" Logan looked up and Colin stopped, waiting expectantly. Logan had to tell him something; he owed his friend an explanation. The only problem was, it wasn't his explanation to give. And then it hit him. The answer. He knew what to tell Colin. And the best part was, it didn't have to be a lie. It could be the truth. It didn't just solve his friend dilemma; it was the answer to so much more…if he could actually succeed.

"You can't say a word…" Colin took a moment to contemplate his next move, deciding whether or not to hear him out. And then, finally, he took his seat again. "If my Dad found out about this before I had something solid…"

"Right, because your father and I have so many heart to hearts."

"You can't say anything to anyone…he has a way of finding things out, you know that." He looked around the table, making sure everyone was very clear. His eyes lingered for a moment on Robert. Their…friendship, if you could call it that, had had its share of ups and downs. But even he knew better than to let any proprietary information leak to any parental units. Logan trusted him.

"I'm job hunting," he told them.

"What?" Finn's eyes narrowed in confusion.

"But you have a job," Colin pointed out.

"I don't want that job." He'd never wanted that job. He just never thought he had any choice in the matter. But why not? What was stopping him from looking elsewhere? From looking in Boston? He was about to graduate with a double major in English and Economics from one of the most prestigious Universities in the world. He could have his pick of jobs. And then he wouldn't have to give a damn about what his father thought when he found out about Rory and the baby. He wouldn't have to go to London. He wouldn't have spend half his life on a plane, and the other half in a boardroom. Not if he didn't want to. He could spend it with her. With their son.

"Look, Logan," Colin stated his eyes blinking slowly in disbelief. "I get that we like to complain about being forced to join the family business, but you can't be serious. Working for Mitchum may not be your dream job, but you have to admit, the perks are pretty good. What are you going to do? Get some lame ass starter job with a 401k match that doesn't vest for five years? Work for a salary that barely covers a crappy apartment…with a roommate? Fly fucking coach?"

"He wants to send me to London." Logan informed him.

"Right, because London is such a terrible place to be."

"It's not where I want to be. It's not home." It wasn't with his family. So, this was it, he was making up his mind—right here, right now. He wasn't going to London. He wasn't working for his father. He didn't need his money, or his stupid job. When he got back to his apartment, he'd start checking out job sites and putting out feelers. He could do this. He didn't need Mitchum Huntzberger. He was Logan Huntzberger, and he could take care of his family all on his own.