February 1986

His feet crunched through the snow as he followed the gravel path beneath leafless elm trees and past a frozen pond. He was following the directions the concierge had given him inside, but he was sure he must be lost; the only building in sight appeared to be a dilapidated shed.

He was about to turn around and check back in at the main building, but the flicker of a light from the outbuilding caught his attention. The whistling of the winter wind died down for a moment and he thought he could hear something as well. Straining his ears, he faintly made out the distinctive stylings of Yazoo. His stomach dropped as he was forced to face the truth…Lorelai was really living in that derelict potting shed with Rory.

When she'd finally told him where she was, the week after running off from her parent's house with Rory, he'd actually been relieved. She'd wound up at an Inn—where she could work for free room and board. She had resisted telling him exactly where this Inn was; she'd wanted to get settled in first. And she didn't want her parents coming after her and dragging them back home. She still had a few months before she was officially 18, after all. But still, even just knowing they were safe and had a roof over their head made him feel better. But now that he was here…this was not exactly what he had in mind.

Reluctantly, he made his way up to the shed, knocking on the door loudly enough that she would be able to hear him over the music, but not so firmly that the door would fall over—which, judging by the state of this place, was a very real possibility.

She opened the door. "Chris!" She replied giddily, throwing her arms around him in a hug. "You made it."

"Umm, yeah, of course." She ushered him in to the place and shut the door, leaning down to stuff some towels near the base of the door to keep the cold out. It was a little chilly inside, but not as bad as he'd expected. Off to the left was a small, unmade bed that he suspected was one of the old roll-aways they used at the Inn. There was a free-standing tub straight ahead of him with an old curtain handing around it. There was a shelf with some snacks and non-perishable foods in the far corner. And off to the right, under the window, was Rory's crib.

"She's sleeping?" he asked in amazement, glancing at the boombox that was blasting away.

"Of course," Lorelai informed him. "This is her favorite song…puts her right to sleep."

"Only You is her favorite song?" Christopher asked with horror.

"Hey, it's not U2 or anything, but it has its merits."

He glanced around the room again, bending down to pick up a discarded t-shirt and placing it on an old, rickety dresser. "I see some things haven't changed," he joked with a smile, smoothing out the blankets a little on the cot and taking a seat. He should put up more of a fight over this music thing; insist his daughter be raised on a proper diet of quality bands like The Cure, The Police, and yes…U2. But he wasn't here to fight. He was here for them.

"What can I say, I don't exactly have a maid anymore."

"Isn't that your job now." He cringed internally, hoping that hadn't come off too harsh. He was just trying to wrap his mind around how she could have chosen this—this life, this work, this…shack, over him. And he knew it wasn't really about him; it was about her family…and her. Lorelai was stubborn, and too independent for her own good. It's what he loved about her, but it also frustrated him to no end sometimes.

"Yeah. And spending all day picking up other people's stuff is plenty without adding mine and Rory's to the list. Besides, I'm taking care of the important stuff…see?" She gestured to the twinkly lights she had strung from the ceiling.

"Well then, please forgive my impudence."

"You are forgiven," she conceded with a resolute nod of her head and a flirty smile, taking a seat next to him on the bed. She wasn't quite touching him, but she was close. And the cool air around them made the heat radiating off her leg all the more obvious. He missed her. He missed her so much. He hadn't seen her in two months. And they hadn't been together since Rory was conceived. Their parents had barely let them spend two seconds alone together since she'd gotten pregnant.

He put a tentative hand on her leg. "I missed you," he said.

She shrugged her shoulders and looked away. "You know why I had to."

"I know," he nodded. He, better than anyone, understood the need to escape their parents. "But I still missed you." His hand slid a little higher up.

She let out a breathy sigh and turned back to him. "Rory's right here," she reminded him.

"She's asleep." He scootched a little closer.

Lorelai glanced at the crib, then back at him. "I missed you too," she admitted.

He reached his left hand up to brush an imaginary strand of hair behind her ear, leaning in close. Lorelai's eyes darted around a little, looking unnerved, but finally they stopped moving, locking on his and she tilted her head forward to meet his lips.

There was something serene yet exhilarating about it, like the feel of wind your face as you sped down the highway on a motorcycle. His hand slid from her leg to her hip, up to her waist and under the hem of the Charlie's Angels hoodie she was wearing. She arched her back into him and everything felt right for the first time in a long time. He shifted his weight, pushing himself up onto his knee to hover over her, guiding her down onto her back.

They continued to kiss; legs tangling, hands groping. He was hard, straining against his pants and though he tried to keep some space between them down there as he held himself above her, when she arched her back it was clear she could feel his arousal.

"Chris, we…we shouldn't…" she breathed out, turning her neck so he could rain kisses down along it.

"Why not?" he asked, his voice distracted by the sensations he was feeling.

She wiggled slightly underneath him, her hands tangling into his hair despite her words.

"Rory," she reminded him again. "Making out is one thing, but…"

He felt his eyes flutter closed with disappointment. His brain knew her words were true, but his body was having trouble understanding.

"Baa, ahh, boo." That seemed to get his body's attention. The cooing noise was followed by the sound of a toy being rhythmically banged against the crib. With a sigh, he sat back up. He took a moment to compose himself before turning around to face his daughter.

"Hey, kiddo," he greeted her with a smile, standing up and taking the few steps across the room to greet his now very awake daughter.

"Dada!" His smile brightened exponentially. She remembered him. She'd just started saying Dada a month before Lorelai had left. He hadn't been sure it would stick. He leaned over, picking the toddler up and scooping her into his arms, the star shaped wooden block still clutched in her hand.

"How's my favorite girl?" he asked as he brought her back to the bed and once again sat next to Lorelai. Rory reached her arms out for her mom. "Still a momma's girl, I see."

Lorelai took the child from him and settled her on her lap. "She loves her dada too," she assured him.

"No, it's fine. I'm second fiddle. I can't say I blame her, I'm a fan of her momma too." He smiled at Lorelai. She blushed and shook her head.

"Oh, did I tell you?" she asked, suddenly excited again. "She loves the snow."

"She certainly doesn't get that from you," he reminded her. Lorelai hated the snow. It was like a prison sentence to her—keeping her couped up in her parent's house.

"I don't know," she shrugged. "It's actually kind of nice. I mean, it's so pretty here. And Rory gets so excited about it that it's hard not to let that rub off on you. I made her this sled and…"

"You made her a sled?" he asked incredulously.

"Well, Francisco, the handyman helped me," she assured him. "But anyway, I put her on it and pull her around and she goes nuts for it. I should show you before you go."

Christopher felt the disappointment wash over him at the mere mention of him leaving. He didn't want to go. He didn't want to watch his daughter play in the snow for 20 minutes then leave until who knew when. "Or, umm…" he scratched behind his ear nervously.

"Or what?" she asked, her face immediately morphing into one of suspicion.

"Or you could…I don't know…come home and show me there. Your parents have that hill in their backyard that's probably the perfect size—not too big for her. And we could get her a real sled…"

"It is a real sled," she huffed, turning away from him. "And that's not our home. Not anymore."

"Come on, Lore," he pleaded. "It's really not that bad. Maybe Richard had it right…about us getting married and me moving in with you…I could work, I could…"

"No!" she shot angrily at him over her shoulder.

"I got my acceptance to Princeton," he told her.

She glanced back at him over her shoulder, her face softening to one of curiosity…and a bit of concern. "Congratulations." She didn't mean it. She knew he didn't really want to go to Princeton…or to college at all.

"I turned them down. Come June, I'm a free man. If you don't want to move back to your parents, then maybe…" he looked around the makeshift apartment. "I don't know…maybe I could move here…with you. We could be a family, we could…"

"Christopher," she sighed.

"What?"

"What about Paris? What about sleeping on every park bench in Europe. You had plans!"

"Things are different now."

"No, they're not."

"Okay, then where's your Harvard application?" he countered. She was so damn stubborn.

"That's not the same. I can't go to Harvard. Not anymore."

"But I can go backpack around Europe?" Didn't she see how ridiculous that was?

"I don't want to mess up your life."

"You are my life. You and Rory. Let me be here for you. Let me take care of you."

Lorelai straightened up determinedly. "We can take care of ourselves."

"Lore—" She stood up with the baby who was starting to fuss, likely in response to the arguing.

"She needs to be changed. And fed… And I've got a lot of work to do at the Inn. I can't just slack off. Mia is expecting me to pull my weight."

"Come on, Lore.

"We should probably do the sled thing some other time." He looked up at her, already digging through a pile of baby stuff. That was it, she had checked out of the conversation. He knew her well enough to know that she was done engaging with this. There was no point. He stood up with a sigh.

"Yeah, I guess, uh, I guess I'll see you again soon?" he asked.

"Yeah," she replied dismissively over her shoulder as she pulled out the diapers. "Soon."

He let out a defeated sigh and turned to Rory who was toddling around on the floor. "Bye, Kiddo," he told her with a wistful smile. He crouched down and held his hands out for a hug. She looked up at him.

"Dada," she said, but she didn't come over. With nary a second though, she waddled back over to her mother.

December 2005

Her foot bounced with nervous energy as they wheeled her gurney down the hall. She'd come to in the ambulance, but she'd still been confused and disoriented. It had taken her a while to remember where she was and what had happened. There had been a flurry of activity going on around her. People poking and prodding her, shining lights in her eyes, and asking her questions. She'd tried to answer the questions as best she could, but it was hard enough to keep her story straight when she hadn't just passed out and…she reached up to rub the throbbing bump on the back of her skull…apparently hit her head.

She was pretty sure she hadn't helped her case by continually forgetting to respond when they referred to her as Leigh, accidentally gave them her real birthday instead of the one on her license, and forgotten the address of her apartment. Plus, to be fair, she was pretty sure at one point she'd stated that Chris Ballew was president.

But everything was starting to come back to her now, and she couldn't say that it was making her feel any better. They had told her Samuel was okay, but that she had preeclampsia. She should have read that stupid pamphlet the doctor had given her. She should have listened to him when he told her to take it easy. But she hadn't. She had been so sure she could do it all on her own—that she had to do it all on her own. And now here she was…in the hospital…on her own.

What was she supposed to do if they put her on bed rest? What if they had to deliver early? She wasn't ready. She wasn't ready to be a mom. A single Mom. She was supposed to have five more weeks. She was supposed to call Logan. Why had she even sent him away in the first place? She was an idiot—that was why. A stubborn idiot. So sure she didn't need anyone. But she did; she needed Logan. She needed him here with her. He was the only one who she could count on. Well, Jo maybe. But that wasn't the same. Jo was an amazing friend but she didn't know her like he did. He knew her. The real her. The her she was before and the her she was now. God, why was she so stupid?

"Where's my stuff?" she asked desperately as they wheeled her into her room. She pushed her torso up, her eyes darting around the room for any sign of her things. "I need my stuff."

"It's okay, Honey," the nurse stated. "They put all your stuff in a bag for safe keeping when you were in the ambulance. It should be up soon. But right now, we need to get you hooked back up to your IV, so just sit back and try to relax."

She shook her head frantically. "You don't understand. I need my phone. I need to call my boyfriend." Boyfriend. She hadn't used that word to describe Logan in six months. Was that what they were? Boyfriend and girlfriend? They could have been if she'd just listened to him and accepted what he was saying last week. But she hadn't. She'd pushed him away. She'd told him to take some time to think. What if he had? What if he'd thought about it and changed his mind? What if he decided it was too much drama…too much work, and that they weren't worth it? What if she called him now and he didn't come?

"You can talk to him in a few minutes. But right now, you really just need to relax. I know how scary this all must be, but it's not good for you or the baby—getting this worked up."

"No, I need to call him now. I need to let him know I'm here. Someone needs to know I'm here."

"It's alright," the nurse continued to try to calm her. "They called your emergency contact when they admitted you."

While the words did have the effect of stopping her frenzied motions, it was not for the reason the nurse had intended. There was nothing calming about that statement. And though she may have suddenly seemed still on the outside, inside everything was suddenly ten times worse. "They what?" she breathed out incredulously.

"They called your emergency contact," she repeated as though it were no big deal. But it was a big deal. It was a huge deal—monumental. She closed her eyes as the memory of that first appointment at Planned Parenthood washed over her. The memory of staring at that page, the words "Emergency Contact" bolded at the top of the page. She remembered how she'd felt—lost and alone and confused. She remembered convincing herself that she'd never need it. And she remembered thinking that if she did need it, it would mean she was dead or incapacitated or something. She hadn't anticipated this scenario. So, she'd just written a name. Her father was here in Boston so he made the most sense. Plus, she supposed she felt safe putting him because for all the times he'd disappointed her in his life, she no longer had to worry about disappointing him. So what if he found out she was pregnant? Him, she could handle. But she hadn't thought about the ramifications; the ramifications that were suddenly very clear. Because there was no way in hell her father wouldn't tell her mother where she was. And once her mother knew, her grandparents would know and everyone else and then everything she'd done over the last six months to start over, would be for nothing.

"Is um…is he here?" she asked in a whisper, her voice breaking with emotion. "My dad?"

"I think so," the nurse told her. "And another young man…your boyfriend I presume." Holy shit! Her father and Logan were here? Together? In the same room? Logan was dead. He was going to die. Although they were in a hospital so hopefully the doctors could save him before he bled out from having his limbs forcibly removed from his body. "And as soon as you let me get you hooked back up, I can have them in here with you."

She held her arm out limply so that the nurse could hook up all the various lines and tubes. She thought about resisting more…delaying the inevitable; avoiding her dad for even just a few more minutes. Avoiding the lectures, and the looks, and the veritable cornucopia of promises he would make. Avoiding the confirmation of what she already knew…that Lorelai was on her way to Boston at that very moment.

But what as the point? It was happening whether she liked it or not. It wasn't like she could run away again…she literally, physically couldn't. And Logan. She just wanted to see him; to feel his hand in hers; to hear the sound of his voice. To hear him tell her everything was going to be okay. Because even though nothing was okay, if he told her it was, she would believe him. He was the only one who could make it okay.

The nurse finished hooking her up. She picked up Rory's hand and gave it a squeeze while smiling warmly down at her. "I'll go get your family."

Oh god. Oh god, oh god. She closed her eyes, trying to take a few calming breaths. This was really happening. It was happening. She was going to see her father. And eventually her mother. She was going to have to answer for everything she'd done. She was going to have to explain. She was going to have to look them in the eye and tell them that she'd screwed up her whole life. That not only had she gotten pregnant, dropped out of school, and run away, but that she didn't even know who her child's father was. How was she supposed to face them? To face the truth?

She opened her eyes and they were standing there—her father and Logan—in the doorway of her room. Just standing there staring at her. And she just stared back.

"I…" she had nothing to follow it up with.

"Hey, Kiddo." Christopher gave her an uneasy smile.

"Dad," she whispered. She hadn't anticipated this…this feeling she was having as she looked at her father for the first time in over six months. She hadn't anticipated that beneath all the fear and worry and anxiety that there would be something else; something almost akin to…relief.

"Hey, Ace." She let her eyes drift to the left to see Logan smiling reassuringly at her. He took a few steps into the room. "How ya doing?"

"I…" She paused, trying to formulate a response to that very loaded question but before she could, Logan laid his hands on her belly, leaning down to give it a kiss.

"And how's our boy?" he asked, glancing up at her from his position poised above her baby bump. His eyes were wide and focused unblinkingly on hers as he tried to silently convey his meaning to her. She looked from Logan to her father and back again as Logan stood back up, not breaking eye contact.

"I…they, umm…they said he's okay. And he's still kicking normally, so…" She let her eyes wander nervously to her father one more time, then back to Logan who took her hand in his and gave it a squeeze.

"Good." It's okay he mouthed silently to her and she felt herself relax, just a tiny bit.

"So…" Christopher said as he too entered the room, standing by the foot of the bed. "Long time no see." He gave her a weak smile and squeezed her foot to let her know he was joking.

Rory grimaced at the forced attempt at levity. Eddie Murphy couldn't joke his way out of this one. "I'm sorry," she whispered.

"It's okay." He told her.

"I don't…" her eyes flicked up to meet his for a second, then looked back down again. "I don't know what to say." Logan's hand was still in hers and she tried to focus on the feel of his palm against her skin.

"You don't have to say anything right now. We've got plenty of time to talk about everything later. Right now I just…" her dad breathed out a relieved sigh. "Right now I just want to look at you."

"Do you hate me?"

"I could never hate you, Kid."

"Does Mom hate me?"

"Your mother loves you."

"She knows?" she asked nervously even though she already knew the answer.

"She knows," Christopher nodded.

Rory placed the hand that wasn't holding Logan's on the swell of her stomach. "Everything?" she asked for confirmation.

"Everything."

"Is she coming?"

"She's on her way."Rory was once again surprised by the kernel of relief that blossomed from beneath the worry and angst. For as frightened as she was of facing her mother, she had to admit that there was a tiny piece of her that was maybe afraid that she wouldn't come. That Lorelai really did hate her and wanted nothing to do with her anymore. "I called her about two hours ago, so normally I'd say she should be here in about an hour, but since she's probably breaking every speed limit known to man—and that Jeep of hers, I think it might be a little less."

"Grandma and Grandpa?" she asked.

"I don't think your Mom has called them yet. Probably best to space out the reunions…you know?" Rory nodded, feeling relieved. Her mom and dad were already more than she could handle in one day. "But they're going to have to know soon," he added. "They've been worried sick about you."

"Oh god, I'm so so sorry." She burst suddenly into tears, finally removing her hand from Logan's to bury her face in it as she sobbed. She felt Logan stroke her hair.

"It's alright, Ace," he whispered soothingly. She felt the press of his lips on the top of her head. "It's going to be alright." She could still feel her father's hand on her foot as he stood there, not saying anything and letting her cry.

When her tears had finally calmed, she turned her head to look at Logan. "Thank you," she whispered hoarsely.

"That's what I'm here for, Ace."

"I'm glad you're here," she told him, trying to convey as much meaning as possible with her words. "I'm really glad you're here."

"Good."

"How did you get here so fast?" she asked. He'd beaten Lorelai who must have known before him. She wasn't even sure how he'd found out. No one at the bookstore knew who he was or how to contact him.

"I was in town…meeting with the guys about the start-up when your Mom called me," he told her. He was in town…meeting with the start-up guys. He was going ahead with his plans to move here, even after what she'd said to him. She needed to talk to him…she needed him to know how she felt.

"Dad," she turned to look at Christopher.

"Yeah, Kiddo?"

"I know you just got here, and I'm really sorry, but…but could I speak to Logan alone for a minute?"

Christopher glared at Logan unhappily, then looked back at her, then back at Logan. She could tell he wasn't happy about it but after a moment he acquiesced. "I'll be right outside."

As soon as Christopher disappeared through the door, Logan was bending down, gathering her up in the biggest embrace he could from his awkward positioning by the side of her bed. "Oh god, Ace." He breathed out. "I was so scared."

"I'm alright," she assured him.

He stood back up again to look at her. "Are you? Really?"

"I mean, the doctor said…"

"No," he shook his head. "I meant…" he glanced towards the door, "with all of that?" he gestured in her father's direction. "With your family?"

"I don't know," she answered honestly. "I'm terrified," she breathed out. "But also kind of…"

"Relieved?" he finished for her. It really was amazing how well he knew her.

"Yeah, I guess," she admitted. "It's just…them finding out was always this huge weight over everything, you know? And I am still so scared to face them…I mean, my Dad is the easy one. But Mom and Grandma and Grandpa? It's gonna be bad. But, at least it's going to be over," she shrugged. "Whatever happens." For the first time in a long time, beneath the fear and the anxiety, there was a feeling of reprieve. She'd spent so long waiting for the bomb to drop that now that it had, it was like she could finally breath again; could start actually moving forward. Maybe that was why she had been so stuck. Why she had planned so little. Because she had no way of knowing when her plans would be blown to hell. She was too busy sheltering in place act.

He pulled up a seat and sat next to her, entwining his fingers with hers. "And physically? You feel okay? Samuel's okay? I know the doctor said…"

"Logan." His eyes flicked up from their hands to her face. He looked worried. "Did you tell…" she exhaled audibly. "Did you tell my family that you were Samuel's father?"

"I'm sorry," he immediately apologized, glancing away. "At first they just assumed, and it didn't really seem like the time to correct them, and then I figured…"

She squeezed his palm in hers. "Don't apologize," she told him.

He looked up at her hopefully. "I mean, we can tell them the truth if you want."

Her heart fluttered with nervous anticipation. "Is that what you want?"

He held her gaze with determination. "No."

"Are you sure?" she asked. "Because this is a big ask. Huge! My grandparents are going to be trying to push us to get married. And my mother is going to despise you forever…"

"Your mother already despises me forever. And it's not an ask. I offered. I want to."

"And your family?" she reminded him.

"Ace," he said with a deep breath. "If you want to tell your family the whole truth, then that's what we'll do. But I meant what I said last week. I am all in. And honestly, my family, well…it's going to be bad no matter what, especially when I tell them I'm not going to work for the business. But I think, at the very least, my Dad won't actively try to sabotage my every career move as long as I'm supporting his grandson. But if he thinks there's even a chance Samuel isn't mine…"

"Oh god." She didn't want to imagine a man like Mitchum Huntzberger trying to retaliate against a poor, innocent baby.

"I won't let him hurt him," he promised.

"I know." She nodded. They were quiet for a minute. "I'm sorry," she eventually said. She'd said that a lot already today. She was going to need to say it a lot more in the coming days.

"For what?" he asked.

"For pushing you away," she told him. "For telling you to go last week. I don't want you to go," she admitted, teary eyed. "I don't ever want you to go again. I love you."

She saw his lips turn up into a sanguine smile. "I love you too."

"Okay then," she nodded with a sigh of relief. She took his hand in hers and guided it to her stomach. "We're a family…you, me, and Samuel." She looked at him and his eyes were glossed over with unshed tears. "The three of us," she said resolutely. "That's all anyone else needs to know."

AN: Alright, last of the speedy updates since I go back to work tomorrow. But at least you got a reunion, right? And no big cliff hanger, though we all know there's still lots more family drama to be had.

Also, if you didn't see it, I started a new story as well. It's called Fake News. Go read it...review it...let me know if you know where I'm taking it because so far no one seems to have picked up on what I thought was the obvious plot line, lol.