"So, "

The simple word hung in the air, suspended from invisible threads tense with undeclared meaning. Myriad rationales, confusing things, were communicated in that comma; indecision, expectation and the friction produced by two very different personalities fighting to steer the ungainly boat they found themselves in together.

Rory had sensed him before she saw him advancing on her desk as if he was a man on a mission. A good thing, that sixth sense about his presence because it had afforded her a modicum of time to steel herself for what seemed to be an inevitable conversation. Light, breezy, casual she admonished herself, keep it cas...her newest catch word. She schooled her features to mild interest her eyes still seemingly glued to the glowing computer screen in front of her and her fingers flying with a will of their own.

"So..." she let her own word hang there from strings of calculated indifference as if she were really only half paying attention to the nuance of his posture, the rhythm of his speech, those hands that gestured and spoke volumes that his voice did not elucidate. It was a lie of course but he didn't need to know that. This was light; this was string less fun... THIS was a pitched battle that only the clever and determined would win. She wasn't giving an inch that he didn't take by force.

"So...did I see you on State Street with...?" It was less of a question and more of an opening for her to interject what he was almost certain would be a green tinged rant. Logan caught himself forgetting to breathe out as he waited for her response. When it came it was surprisingly less than illusory.

"Yeah." The tone was matter of fact, neutral, a confirmation of a direct question, and an epitome of word economy that gave him nowhere to go but deeper into this proverbial pit.

"Right." He frowned slightly but quickly recovered "So...you saw me on State Street with...?" Again not a question and if he was waiting for her to chose the direction of this conversation he was left holding the ball after another cursory reply that implied distinct disinterest in the topic.

"Yep." Keep it brief she thought, answer the question and move on no use lingering on the sharp, deliberately nameless thing that had sliced through her in that instant of recognition.

"So?" The question mark was all but etched in the air between them and begged for a retort but she stubbornly held back the words that wanted to fall from her tongue in rapid succession. Those words wouldn't solve this quandary; they would only serve to give him a reason to run.

"So." It was as blank a canvas as she could make it and still utter a syllable.

He considered how to ask the delicate question and still walk the tight rope they had constructed for themselves with the utmost care. "Are we still good?"

He struggled to sound like the answer didn't matter, after all he was just making polite chit chat, smoothing over an unfortunate incident that he hated to think would derail their budding but undefined relationship.

Truth was she had wanted to give in to temptation and let her mother bean him with that rock she had suggested. A glance flicked in his direction where she tried to gage his concern over the matter. She didn't get much though, if this were a contest of poker faces she had no doubt he would beat her hands down. If she wanted to stay in the game she couldn't let him know that she had wanted to storm across the street and yank the flirtatious giggling bimbo up by her perfectly highlighted hair and cut her to shreds with a few well-placed insults.

She swallowed the bitter pill that she had chosen and played out the hand "Absolutely."

Her tone was breezy, bright and completely insincere, add to it the flash of pearly whites and he left with an even more obscured view of what lay beneath her deliberately cheery surface.

"Really?" he must have sounded surprised and skeptical because she jumped to defend her statement with more of that diffident tone.

"Logan we both agreed no strings attached, remember?" Her voice held a hint of censure as if she were irked that he was making her repeat herself.

"I remember. I was just checking to see how well you remember." It irritated him that she seemed to be questioning his own memory of a conversation that was engraved crystal clear in his mind. He had thought at the time that it was a dream come true, a girl like Rory Gilmore; sweet, smart, witty AND willing to forgo the usual need for definition and commitment that generally traveled hand in hand with those characteristics. He had gone with the invitation figuring it was one of those carried away in the heat of the moment impulses that the light of day and rational thought would have her discarding without a backward glance once she came to her senses.

The problems started when she followed through with a more pugnacious spirit than he would have predicted. They had done the whole get together just for sex thing and it was great, off the charts fantastic actually. That was all fine and good; he had done the no strings sex thing plenty of times. The worries started when he found her creeping into his thoughts at odd moments, when he saw a coffee cart or a library book that reminded him of her. When he had given in to impulse and snuck her in to the dining hall with the key he wasn't supposed to have just to see her smile like a kid in the candy store over cocoa puffs and ice cream. That was distinctly unusual in his world of no stings. Wining, dining and fancy parties were his usual modus operandi, trips to the newspaper office in hopes of running in to her and wanting to drop everything and kiss her senseless every time she came into sight were not. Despite her rather accomplished play acting he saw the occasional glances, knew that at times she chafed against the rules that she herself had set and he waited, waited for her to break that invisible barrier of half truths that lay between them. He waited for her to step foot across that line in the sand and challenge him to defend his statements about the type of guy he really was. Yet days, weeks had passed and he was still left waiting for that other shoe to drop. There was no attempt on her part to change the boundaries or claim more of him than she had taken in that first night of their agreement. He waited because he'd be damned if he'd be the first one to break.

"I remember perfectly." Her smile didn't falter and her eyes swiveled quickly back to her story as if the conversation were just a slight distraction and not a contractual discussion at all.

"Okay that's good to hear." He'd gotten what he came for, absolution. Relief should have flooded his brain, allowed him to breathe easier but instead that weighty ball of doubt, guilt, and unnamed desires cinched a notch tighter in his chest. He should have exited then, Logan Huntzberger prided himself on being an excellent card player, a man who knew when to hold 'em and knew when to fold 'em. He should have stuck with his golden rule...always quit while you are ahead.

He should have quit the table but he didn't, something about this felt unfinished like there was more to say than a few stilted adverbs. He just wasn't sure what that more entailed. His lips opened and he heard his voice spill out "So..."

"Oh, we're not going to do the so thing again are we?" Her tone was teasing, the tense part of the conversation apparently over in her mind.

He looked at her half smile and internally shook himself. She had done it again. She had surprised him, knocked him off balance. He had expected her to lambaste him for what had felt like infidelity the second he had recognized her across the busy street but instead she was teasing him. Playing the game exactly by the rules they had set, something that he was suddenly finding himself loath to do.

She flashed him a playful smile that had her eyes dancing and it seemed that was enough to goad him on to reckless action

His hands had taken on a life of their own, a habit they had of running a bit before the cart and getting overly exuberant in the face of impending adventure "No, promise, no more Sos. Will you take an um?"

"Depends where is it leading." She let a little smile play on her lips and wondered at what point she had become so good at bluffing.

"Um...are you busy or do you feel like grabbing a cup of coffee." Funny, when he had seen her sitting here he had just wanted to get the formality of confrontation out of the way, smooth whatever irritation she might feel. It had been a very clear objective but somehow in the five-minute conversation he had completely lost sight of the endpoint. It was something that seemed to be happening all too often of late when those sea blue eyes danced their merry jig towards him and her voice called to him like a mermaid's song drawing him ever closer to drowning in the watery depths.

"Why do you have the master key to a Starbucks or something?"

Her voice held that lilting note of humor now so he sent her his signature the world is my oyster smirk and pitched his voice to match her playful tone "No I just thought we'd walk in and pay."

"Wow, old school." Inside she was dancing as she saw that glimmer of possibility, "Sure lets go." They were past the worst of the conversation and this thing they were doing would live to see another day she shrugged off the weight of the what ifs and rose from her seat.

"Okay, let's go."