One

Rory had been staring at her laptop for so long that the words had started to blur together, transforming into a meaningless soup of letters and punctuation. Even the once-mighty coffee in her mug had lost its charm, sitting cold and forgotten on the desk, abandoned in act of tragic of caffeine negligence.

She let out a long, dramatic sigh, wishing she could will her brain to stop spinning and let it concentrate on her task ahead.

"You know," Logan's voice floated from the doorway, as leaned against the doorframe, "I don't think willing your laptop to explode is a valid editing technique."

Rory turned, exhaustion lining her face. "It's my piece forThe Atlantic," she said, slumping in her chair. "It'sgood, I think? Or maybe it's total garbage. I can't even tell anymore. I'm thinking I might just sell everything I own and move to a small town in Iceland. Change my name. Go by something untraceable, like Emily. That way, when this disaster inevitably sees the light of day, no one will know it was me. They just might think it's my grandma."

"Well, let's see." Logan strolled over, plucked the laptop off of her desk, and sank onto the couch. "What's it about?"

"BREXIT's impact on the U.K. economical and political status and it's implications on the U.K.'s relationship with the U.S.."

Logan made a face. "Wow. Riveting."

"Hey! Itisriveting," Rory protested. "It's full of drama, power struggles, broken alliances - basicallyGame of Thrones, but with more trade agreements and fewer dragons, so right up your alley."

Logan smirked but dutifully started reading with the same intense focus he usually reserved for his quarterly earnings reports.

Finally, he looked up. "It's good."

"Good as in 'publishable' or good as in 'you have to say that because we sleep together'?"

"Good as ingreat," Logan said firmly, leaning back on the couch. "It's sharp, it's engaging. And I'm saying this withzerobias, I swear. In fact, it might even get a Mitchum stamp of approval, which, let's be real here, is amiracle."

Rory beamed. "You really think so?"

"Yes." He grinned. "Although, I did catch a typo in the third paragraph."

She groaned. "Of course you did."

"Just returning the favour, Ace."

Two

Logan was stretched on their luxurious sofa, cold beer in hand, watching the Sunday football match, when Rory walked in, dropped a thick manuscript onto his stomach with a flourish, and announced, "It's done."

Logan barely blinked. "Jesus, Ace. A little warning?"

"Where's the fun in that?" She grinned, flopping down beside him and placing a triumphant hand on her bump - a victorious warrior, if victorious warriors were six months pregnant and fuelled exclusively by pints of Ben and Jerry's Cherry Garcia ice cream and late-night existential crises.

Logan sat up, shifting the manuscript onto the coffee table. "This isthe book?"

"This isthe book."

He grinned. "You finishedGilmore Girls."

"Six months pregnant and still managed to meet my deadline," she sighed dramatically. "Truly, I am an inspiration."

"Youarean inspiration." He wrapped an arm around her, pressing a kiss to her temple. "Have I told you how much I love you?"

"Frequently."

"Good." He tapped the manuscript. "Can I read it?"

She bit her lip, suddenly hesitant. "Well, why else would I bring it to you?"

Logan raised an eyebrow. "Not to give me a task to do, so I can avoid all of the diaper changes to come?"

She rolled her eyes but smiled. " No. I do want you to read it. Just be prepared."

"For what?"

"You know you're in it, right?"

Logan smirked. "I assumed. Hard to tell the story of Rory Gilmore withoutthegreat love of her life."

Rory snorted. "God, I hope that arrogance and massive ego made it in."

"Thecharmingarrogance, I assume. Not the Mitchum variety."

"It's a very fine line," she teased.

Logan chuckled, flipping idly through the first few pages before glancing back up. "So, who else made the cut?"

"Well, my mom, obviously. Paris, Lane, my dad -"

"Obviously."

"And Dean and Jess."

Logan's entire body tensed. "I'm sorry. Did you just sayDeanandJess?"

Rory sighed. "Logan -"

"Youwrote about Jess?"

"He was a significant part of my life!"

"The man was around for five minutes and spent four of them brooding."

"Oh my God, youcannotbe jealous. It was over 15 years ago. Logan, come on."

"I'm not jealous. I just strongly object to wasting valuable page space on literary hipsters with bad attitudes."

"Will you just read it?"

"Fine," Logan said, sighing heavily. "Every word."

And he did -exceptfor the Jess parts, which, to this day, he claims "somehow mysteriously fell out of the book."

Three

Logan was sitting in his office, his tie loosened, his laptop glowing in the dim light. His desk was covered in papers, financial reports, and the remnants of what looked like a very sad bowl of cold Mac and Cheese.

The door creaked open, and Rory walked in, barefoot, balancing a sleepy, slightly fussy two-month-old Jack in her arms. She rubbed his tiny back, rocking him gently, her brow furrowed. "Are you coming to bed, or have you officially moved into the office?"

Logan sighed, rubbing his temples. "If I can figure out how to make this deal not implode by morning, I'll consider sleeping."

Rory raised an eyebrow, walking towards his desk. "That bad?"

"That bad," he confirmed, gesturing to the chaos around him. "It's a merger pitch, and the numbers work, but their CEO is the most stubborn man alive. He wants full creative control, but the board wants oversight. It's a disaster."

Rory made a thoughtful sound, then sighed as she lowered herself onto the couch with a small grunt, propping her feet up on the coffee table. Jack stirred against her chest, his tiny hand curling into the fabric of her shirt. Logan glanced at them, at the way she absently pressed a kiss to the top of Jack's head while he settled, and felt a tug in his chest - equal parts love and exhaustion.

"You know,someonein this household spent like seven years studying how to handle difficult, precious egos."

Logan glanced over with a smirk. "Oh? You mean dealing with Paris?"

"Idomean dealing with Paris," Rory grinned. "And my mother. And, you knowyou."

Logan laughed. "Fair point. But unless Paris is going to strong-arm this guy into signing the contract -"

"Paris is in Connecticut.I, however, am right here."

She scooted closer, shifting Jack slightly as she reached for his laptop. Logan watched as her brow furrowed in that familiar way, her eyes scanning the screen with sharp, effortless focus. Jack stirred against her chest, letting out a tiny sigh, and she automatically adjusted him, rocking gently without breaking her stride.

"Okay," she finally said. "Here's your problem: you're trying to win him over with logic. But if this guy is, as quite frankly stupid and stubborn, as you say, logic is useless. You needflattery."

Logan groaned. "Ihateflattery when it comes to 60 year-old-men."

Rory patted his arm. "I know, sweetheart. It's so hard being a rich, powerful man with integrity. Flattery is how you made me fall in love with you though, so it's not all bad."

He shot her a look. "Are you helping me or making fun of me?"

"Both," she admitted, grinning. "Now, listen. You need to make himfeellike he's getting control, even if he's not. Reword this section," she gestured to his screen, "so it sounds like he'sessentialto the vision, the guiding force of this new partnership. Tell him his leadership is what will make it succeed, that youneedhis expertise."

Logan watched her, amused. "So basically, I lie."

"It's not lying," Rory said, scrolling through the document. "It'sstrategic framing. You know, the thing journalists do when we want people to talk to us. Also, as a woman, you get used to this kind of thing. Butter them up, make themthinkthey have the power, and then quietly run the world while they're busy feeling important."

He huffed a laugh. "Remind me never to give you an interview."

"Smart man."

Logan leaned over, rereading the section she'd adjusted. To his surprise, it actuallydidsound better. Still true, but smoother - like an appeal to the guy's ego without actually giving anything away.

He smirked. "You know, Ace, you'd make a terrifying executive."

"Don't tempt me." She stretched, yawning, then shifted Jack, who was now completely asleep, his tiny mouth parted, his chubby cheek pressed against her shoulder.

Logan reached out, smoothing a warm hand over his son's back, feeling the steady rise and fall of his breathing. "Alright," he murmured. "Let's go to bed before you convince me to hire you."

Rory smirked. "Logan, please. I'm already your secret weapon."

Four

Rory was curled up on the couch, her swollen feet propped up on the coffee table, a pillow behind her as she tried to get comfortable, having just read Jack his bed time story. The house was quiet except for the sound of Logan pacing back and forth, the soft shuffle of his feet on the hardwood floor. It was late, far later than either of them usually stayed up, but Logan had insisted on practicing his speech for the hundredth time.

She sighed, glancing up at him over the edge of her book. "How many more times are we going to go through this?"

Logan, not missing a beat, glanced at her with a half-smile. "Just one more. I promise."

Rory raised an eyebrow, half-mocking, half-sympathetic. "You've been saying 'just one more time' for the last hour. You sure you're not planning on reading the entire boardroom report to me?"

He stopped pacing and faced her, a playful smirk curling at his lips. "Well, you've been sohelpfulso far. I thought I'd see if I can still impress you."

"Oh, trust me," she said, lowering her book onto her chest. "You'reimpressingme, alright. I've never heard anyone so successfully suck the life out of a simple partnership pitch."

Logan rolled his eyes but couldn't hide his grin. "Alright, alright. I'm trying to be serious here. You know how important this is."

She tilted her head, feigning thought. "Important? You meanlife-changingcorporate merger important? Oh, I didn't realise, you hadn't mentioned."

Logan walked over and stood in front of her, looking down at her with a mix of affection and exasperation. "Come on, I need to get this right. The Japan expansion is a huge deal."

Rory raised a finger as if preparing to lecture him. "I know. And I'm happy to provide you withemotionalsupport." She paused for a beat. "But please, for the love of all thingsnon-snooze-worthy, do not try to sell me on it like you're narrating a documentary about beige paint samples."

Logan chuckled. "Okay, fine. I'll try to keep it moreexciting."

She gave him a teasing smile. "No promises, but go ahead. Show me your 'exciting CEO voice.'"

Logan took a deep breath, straightened his posture, and launched into the speech, his voice dropping into that practiced, corporate tone. "Huntzberger Media is proud to announce an exciting new partnership with the leading Japanese firm,"

Rory raised a hand, interrupting him. "Stop. You're doing it again."

He sighed dramatically. "What now?"

"You're doing that thing where you make it sound like the fate of the free world depends on this deal," she said, giving him an exaggeratedly serious look. "Like you're about to reveal a secretalientreaty or something."

He groaned, rubbing a hand over his face. "What am I supposed to do, Rory? Thisisimportant. People actually care about this stuff."

"Sure, sure," she said with mock sincerity. "It'sjustthat when you talk like that, I keep expecting someone to shout 'cue the slow-motion shots of men in suits shaking hands.'"

Logan's lips twitched as he tried not to laugh. "You're impossible."

Rory beamed at him. "I know. It's a gift." She reached for her mug of decaf coffee, taking a sip before adding, "Seriously, though, you're theCEO -if anyone should be able to make corporate jargon sound interesting, it's you."

Logan smirked. "Oh, so you're suggesting I spice it up with some jazz hands?"

"Jazz hands are always a good idea," Rory said, deadpan. "But I think what you really need is to make people feel something, engage them. You know, instead of just talking at them."

Logan raised an eyebrow. "And how would you recommend I do that? Get emotional about paper-thin profit margins?"

"Well, when you put it that way," Rory said with a grin, "It does sound like a snoozefest. But maybe you could just talk about why this matters. Like why you care, instead of just the numbers. I'm not saying you want them in tears, but they know the numbers. Give them a reason."

His smirk softened. "You know, you're right."

Rory gasped. "Did you just say I'm right? Wait, hold on, let me get this in writing -"

He laughed, squeezing her knee. "Don't push it, Gilmore."

She grinned. "I wouldnever."

Logan was quiet for a moment, considering her words. "You know, you're right. I've been so focused on getting the facts down that I forgot to make it feel… human."

"Yeah," she said, giving him a sly smile. "Try a little heart with all thatcorporate charm. Andplease -lay off the monotone."

Logan leaned down, his face softening as he kissed her forehead. "Alright, alright. I'll give it a shot. But only because you're the one whoactuallymakes sense."

Rory chuckled, shaking her head. "You're lucky I'm pregnant and can't exactly escape to my office for the night."

"Definitely a win for me," Logan said, winking as he stepped back. "Okay. I'll try it your way."

He cleared his throat again and began, this time speaking more naturally, with a bit more passion. "Huntzberger Media is excited about this partnership with Asahi Shimbun because it's more than just a business move - it's a chance to build something meaningful that'll positively affect everyone we work with. We want to make sure this expansion isn't just profitable, but also positive for our partners and employees. It's about creating something bigger than just the bottom line."

Rory's eyes softened as she listened. "Now that," she said, "is the kind of speech I'd actually want to sit through."

Logan smiled, sitting down beside her and resting a hand on her belly, giving it a gentle rub and receiving a small kick in return from their little girl. "Thanks for the advice. You know, I might just steal some of that."

Rory leaned against him. "You better. I might not be there in the room with you when you actually do it, but I'll be there in spirit."

Logan chuckled, kissing her cheek. "Don't worry, I'll make sure the board knows exactly who helped me."

"Good. Just don't forget," she said with a wink, "it's all about thehuman touch."

Logan shook his head, smiling. "You really are impossible, you know that?"

"Andyou're welcome," she said smugly. "Now get some rest. You've got a big day tomorrow."

Logan draped an arm around her, pressing another kiss to her temple. "Thanks, Ace."

Five

Rory was buried under aGuardiandeadline. Quite literally. Their family dining table was a war zone of crumpled notes, three empty coffee cups, and the sad remains of what had once been a sandwich but was now just a crust graveyard. Her hair was piled in a very lopsided bun, her bangs wispily falling around her face, and she was furiously typing, muttering under her breath like a woman possessed.

Logan walked in, took one look at her, and sighed. "You need an editor."

"Iamthe editor," Rory snapped, not looking up.

"You need abettereditor."

"Excuse me?!"

Before she could unleash a rant about her journalistic integrity and the sanctity of her process, Logan strolled over, plucked her laptop from her grasp, and started scrolling.

Rory gasped, reaching for it. "Hey! This isThe Guardian, notHuntzberger Monthly for Smug Rich Men -give it back!"

Logan dodged her, still reading. "Ace, I love you, but you have six semicolons in one paragraph."

"They'reelegant!"

"They'repretentious," he corrected, already making edits. "This sentence is redundant, this transition is clunky, and this quote? The guy sounds like he was hit over the head with a thesaurus."

Rory gaped at him. "Iliked that quote!"

"Well,Ilike good writing."

"Are you implying I'mnota good writer?"

"Not at all," Logan said, smirking. "I'm just implying that at this particular moment, atthishour, afterthismuch caffeine, you might have lost perspective."

Rory crossed her arms. "I hate you."

Logan didn't even look up. "No, you don't."

"Okay, fine, Imildly dislikeyou in this moment."

"Fair."

Twenty minutes later, he handed her laptop back with a flourish. "Better."

Rory grabbed it and scanned the changes. Her scowl softened. "Howdid you do this so fast?"

Logan leaned casually against the table. "Idorun a media empire, Ace. Editing is kind of in my wheelhouse."

Rory sighed, dramatically flopping back against her chair. "Fine. Iguessyou're useful."

Logan grinned. "High praise."

Rory took another sip of her cold coffee, eyeing him. "You know, this is a dangerous precedent. If you'regoodat this, I might just have to make you my full-time editor."

Logan pretended to consider. "Hmm.The Guardianpays well?"

"Not enough for your scotch lifestyle."

"Ah, shame." He winked. "Guess I'll just have to settle for being anexcellentpartner, afantasticfather, and anoccasionalgenius editor."

Rory rolled her eyes but couldn't fight her grin. "The ego in this room is suffocating."

"You love it."

"Unfortunately." She leaned forward, giving him a quick peck. "Thanks, Huntzberger. You're notcompletelyterrible."

"Again,highpraise." Logan smirked, stealing a sip of her coffee. "Now, finish up, Ace. I hear yourveryattractive partner is waiting for you in bed."

Rory groaned. "God, the way you justassume -"

"- That I'm attractive? That you'll join me? That I just saved your article? C. All of the above?"

She huffed but stood anyway, grabbing her laptop. "Shut up."

Logan just grinned. "Love you too, Gilmore. You still owe me that foot massage - I've been waiting for twenty years."