A/N: This takes place in LMHYBRO, and then goes my way, dammit! It might end up being a 2 or 3 parter, but let me know if you think it should finish where I left it or continue... Thanks!

Another hellish trip with Mitchum, this one in Omaha. On the plane back, dear old "dad" hinted about sending me away for a year, probably to London, to learn responsibility. The very concept is laughable. If he knew me at all, he'd know I've never been more responsible in my life than I am with Rory. I study; I write because I want to; I attend class on a regular basis. Although that last one's mostly so I can report back to my little dork so she can still feel connected to Yale.

Ugh. Just the seed of London planted in my head turns my stomach. All I've wanted from the moment he told me was to be with Ace. All she has to do is hold me, as cliché as that sounds. In the past, after a particularly fun father-son moment, I'd head straight to the pub, drink loads of expensive scotch, and find some nameless girl to fuck, all in an attempt to numb myself, to forget. I've since realized that that never actually made me feel better; it simply postponed the pain.

But with Rory, all she has to do is touch me, and the pain, the anger, it's gone. She calms me, keeps me whole even as I'm falling apart. She believes in me, trusts me, and loves me. God, I love her. The only place I want to be is wherever she is.

It scares me sometimes, how much I need her. I've never needed anyone like this, both physically and emotionally; hell, I never knew it was possible until my Gilmore girl entered my life. I never had what you could call role models for this. My parents don't need each other, and they sure as hell don't need me for anything other than business. But I see Richard and Emily, and how they couldn't live without each other. I see how much Rory needs her mom right now, even if she won't admit it to me. She knows what it's like. But does she need me half as much as I need her?

As I pull into her grandparents' driveway, I start to question if she needs me at all. She's with some other guy, some greasy-haired loser, and my heart drops to my stomach. I want to scream that she's mine – I haven't felt like this since she went to Finn's birthday party with Robert ages ago.

"Hey, Logan, I thought you were getting back tomorrow."

"I thought I'd surprise you, Ace." Although one could say that I'm the surprised one.

But then she looks at me, and I know she's trying to read me, my reaction. Her depthless blue eyes reassure me, and I can tell that she senses something's up. Something big. She introduces me to her friend, who seems harmless enough close up.

"Well, I'm glad you did 'cause you get to meet my old friend, Jess. This is Logan, my boyfriend. Logan, this is Jess. He's in from out of town. Wow. That sounded so grown-up. We're at the age now where we say things like "in from out of town" and "old friend", 'cause when you're young, all your friends are new, and you have to get old to have old friends."

She then turns to Jess, puts her hand on his arm, and says something I can't quite hear. My hands clench in my pockets until she looks at me and smiles, "Logan, can we swing lunch with Jess tomorrow?"

"Sure," I reply noncommittally. As long as he goes away right now, I think to myself.

Jess nods, not getting why dinner needs to be cancelled. He can't see that sometimes, despite Rory's adorable tendency to ramble, we don't need words to communicate. He walks away, leaving me to my girl.

She places her hand on my face the way I love, her thumb in front of my ear, her fingers tangled in my hair. Those amazing eyes of hers showed complete understanding.

"So, what happened with Mitchum?"

"I don't want to talk about it right now," I say, as she gathers me in her arms. I bury my face into the porcelain skin of her neck, and inhale deeply. 3 days. I was away from her for 3 days, and nearly went insane. I can't even begin to fathom a year in London without her.

I push the unbidden thoughts away, and step back. Taking both my hands in hers, she says, "Give me your keys." I don't let anyone drive my Porsche, but she's an exception. She's exceptional. I let her drive it the first time just because I thought she'd look incredibly sexy. And she did. Unbelievably so. So she's allowed, usually as some sort of fun foreplay. But tonight is different. Her eyes dart from the road to me and back again. I know her mind's in overdrive, wondering what my father's done to me this time, but I just enjoy the silence. And she knows I'll tell her when I'm ready.

Back in my apartment, she leads me to my bed and undresses me, very matter-of-factly. I can honestly say that for the first time with her, I don't want sex. But I say nothing-- she's got her determined face on. She lays me down, and undresses herself just as simply. None of the slow teasing with her brilliant smile, none of the frantic ripping of clothes when her eyes are clouded with lust. I wonder what she's up to, when she lies down and pulls my head to her chest.

"Listen," she whispers. "I've got you. I'm here. And I'm not going anywhere."

Wrapped in her naked embrace, listening to her heartbeat, I never want to let her go. And I decide then and there that I won't.

"I love you, Rory," I murmur.

"I know," she smiles into my hair as she leans over and kisses the top of my head.

"And I'm not going anywhere either."

And I mean it. I'll do whatever it takes to stay right here with her. This is home.