Now is not the time to tell them about Tiffany's on Old Bond Street

"I suppose now is not the right time."

"No, I don't think so."

She pressed her forehead against the glass. "I'm about ready to burst from holding out for so long, waiting until you and I could be with Mom, Grandma and Grandpa and Dad, and…now the whole family is here…and pretty much everyone else I care about. And damn, it's not the right time."

They found themselves a lonely floor (the 34th?) to huddle against some potted ferns, leaning against glass windows that looked out over picturesque winter Connecticut landscape. Now that he was awake, visitors streamed into and out of Richard's suite below—old colleagues and friends and DAR folk, Luke, Sookie and Jackson, Ms. Patty from Stars Hollow, even Lane and Paris.

They had to get away. In a while, Logan was leaving again for New York. He sighed and took her in an embrace, their foreheads, cold from the glass, touching.

"Are you still enjoying our little secret, though?" he whispered conspiratorially.

"It's hardly 'little'…Mom took one look at me after I got back home and I knew she was wondering whether something was up."

She reddened involuntarily, feeling warm as Logan dipped a finger under her collar to reveal a diamond set on a platinum band, hanging from a slender chain around her neck.

"I've evaded her pointed stares as best as I could. Then I went back to Yale, and Grandpa…and now I think she thinks I just had a really good holiday with you."

"Well you really had a good holiday with me."

He bent his head to her and nuzzled her nose, before capturing her mouth with his. Rory held his face to hers as she parted her lips under his to deepen the kiss.

"So what did you tell her about your Christmas in London?" he asked, planting kisses along her jaw line.

"Oh…jam and crumpets and mulled wine…caroling at King's College…" she struggled to remain coherent as Logan attended to a special spot on her neck. "She was particularly captivated by the Queen's Christmas message…" Rory clung to Logan's coat for dear life, as her legs turned to rubber from the deliberate strokes of his tongue. "And she turned green when I said we skated at Somerset House…Um, Logan. Logan!" She tugged at his hair, forcing him to look up and around.

An elderly couple, snowy-haired and armed with metal walkers, was gazing with interest at the young couple making out in what appeared to be the Geriatric ward. They shook their heads but smiled benevolently, as they shuffled into the elevator.

Logan turned again to Rory, not the least bit perturbed by their apparent lack of privacy. "I'm a bit disappointed, Ace. You didn't tell her about what we did during the Winter Solstice? Surely that was the best longest night…" he grinned wickedly and bent to kiss her again.

"I skipped that part," Rory murmured between kisses. "but I distracted her enough with my British theatre rendition of 'Climb Every Mountain' and shopping exploits in Chelsea and Mayfair…"

"Except you didn't tell her about a particular shopping expedition we had at Bond Street in Mayfair."

Rory unconsciously caressed the ring around her neck. "I will."

"We will. She'll flip?"

"Most definitely. And Grandma…she'd be planning our wedding as soon as it's socially respectable given Grandpa's convalescence."

"Then I guess there is something to be said about secrets, huh? Some poet said that…that it's all the sweeter for it being kept between just us two."

"And now you're spouting poetry. I've always known there's something weird in hospital food." She held his head still between her hands and kissed him hard, with urgency. "I miss you, Logan."

"It hurts that it seems to have escaped your notice, but I'm still here Rory."

"You know what I mean. I can hardly wait until I graduate. Until we can be together for more and longer than just days at a time. Until…"

"I know." Logan gathered her in a close embrace. "That time will come."

A moment more, and they knew it was time to return to the fray, to Richard, to New York, to Yale. Rory pulled Logan to the elevator and punched the down arrow.

"Meanwhile," she sighed, putting her necklace back under her collar, "Now is not the time to tell them about Tiffany's on Old Bond Street."