- Written for the Summer 2007 Build-a-Fic Challenge
Title: A Little Rain
Word Count: 4877
Song: Kiss the Rain by Billie Myers
1.) Character/Pairing: Rory/Logan
2.) Rating: R
3.) Time Period: Post-Series Finale
4.) Ickle Word: schmoopy, confusable
6.) Random Object: Raindrops
7.) Happening/Event: Late night phone call
Special thanks to Katie, for among other things, getting Drunk Rory to be just right!
Logan muttered a few curt words into his phone and then, with a sigh, turned to his girlfriend.
"Looks like we're stuck in Chicago overnight, Ace," he said. "Storms are moving in, and the airport isn't letting anyone leave, no matter how much money I throw around."
Rory shook her head and nudged his shoulder with her own. They were sitting side by side in a booth at a little coffee shop they had found while waiting for the weather to clear so they could resume their travel plans. "It's not a big deal," she assured him. "As long as we're both in the same country, let alone the same city, I'm a happy girl." It had been nearly three months since Logan had relocated to London, and it was also the first time he had been back in the States for any lengthy amount of time. There were a couple of weeks left before Rory's classes began, so he had insisted on taking her away for the week.
"But if we don't get out of here soon, we could lose our reservations in Los Angeles," Logan pointed out. "And I really wanted to show you LA."
"Cheer up," she said, planting a kiss on his cheek. "Logan, we could spend the next five days in Defiance, Ohio, and I wouldn't care as long as I was with you." It was a schmoopy sentiment, they both knew it, but neither cared as he leaned forward and captured her mouth with his.
"Very well, come on." He made a big production of pulling her to her feet. "Let's go find a hotel and settle in for the night." His eyes flicked over body and he winked at her. "It's been a long time, you know."
"Oh trust me, I know," she agreed. She took the hand he offered her and they headed out into the grey and rainy evening.
Despite the rain, it was still balmy out, and instead of waving down a taxi, Rory convinced Logan to walk down the Magnificent Mile in search of a hotel for the night.
Halfway into their walk, a sudden gust of wind came out of nowhere, snapping Logan's umbrella into two pieces. Rory giggled as the rain they had previously been shielded from splashed over them, soaking them through almost instantly.
Logan shrugged, and pulled her closer with one arm, kissing her fully on the lips. "What's a little rain, right?" he asked, as they continued their walk, laughing and splashing through puddles like little kids, stopping occasionally to share a kiss.
"Huntzberger." His voice was all business; brusque, and more Mitchum-like than she had ever heard and it startled her. Had he even bothered to look at the caller ID before answering? Or had he, and the tone of voice was directed at her?
"Hello?" She had waited too long and now there was an added annoyance to his words.
"Hi. It's me. How are you?" She spoke quickly, the words tumbling out of her mouth and she hiccupped at the end of her question. Shrugging it off, she she bit the inside of her cheek and braced herself for whatever came next. Then she realized she had no idea how he was going to react to this phone call.
"Rory?" His tone changed instantly, softening. "What's wrong? Is everything okay?"
"I'm fine, nothing's wrong," she was quick to reassure him. Why had she even called him in the first place? She hiccupped again and looked over at the half-empty bottle of red wine that sat on the table. Oh, that's why, she remembered mournfully.
"Rory?" His voice startled her out of her thoughts.
Logan laughed then. "You called me," he reminded her gently. "Are you sure you're alright?"
"I'm fine." She sighed. Through the phone she could hear voices in the background. "Are you busy? I'm sorry if I interrupted your dinner or your da-date," she tripped over the word with another hiccup. "I didn't even look at the clock, I just called, and..."
"Ace, Ace," he cut her off. "It's okay. A few people came over for drinks after work. Hang on, I'll go someplace quieter." She sipped her wine idly and listened as he moved around what she assumed was his apartment. "Okay, that's better." He paused again. "Now, tell me what's going on. Why am I getting a phone call from you when I haven't heard from you in almost two months?" He paused. "And why in the middle of the night?" he looked at his watch. "It's one in the morning here. Where are you?"
She tried to process all of his questions. "You are angry still, aren't you?"
"Angry?" He now sounded incredulous. "Angry? Ror... I..." The sound of her hiccupping finally registered in his brain; the pitch in her voice taking him back to some of the nights they had spent together at the pub. It was one he didn't hear often, but found endearing all the same. "Rory, have you been drinking? Are you drunk?"
"True," she said somberly. "Or not true, actually. That would be false, wouldn't it? Yes, false. I should be drunk Logan, but I am not drunk. No, I'm barely even tipsy. Three glasses of wine later, and I am still completely sober," she said, drawing out the syllables on the word completely. "Aaannd I'm in Chicago," she added as an afterthought.
"Chicago?" he echoed.
"Chicago," she confirmed. "The Windy City. Chi-Town. Oprah. Jerry Springer. The Cheesecake Factory. Well, you get the picture. I'm here on layover from work. Did you know I've been working on the Obama trail?"
"I did. I've read a few of your pieces."
"What, are you spying on me? Keeping tabs on Rory now?" She tried her best to sound indignant, but failed miserably and he couldn't help but smile.
"I prefer to call it being a fan of your writing." He tried to placate her. "Rory, you should go to bed, don't you think? It's pretty late there?"
"I'm not tired!" she said petulantly. "And I'm not drunk."
"I never said you were." He hesitated. "Are you sure you're okay?" he asked again. "It's not like you to drink alone. Is something going on?"
"Oh I don't know, maybe I'm just homesick. I haven't been home in three months, you know. I'm tired of being on the road. I miss my friends, I miss my family, hell, I even miss Kirk! I hate being alone in a stupid hotel room, I hate living out of a suitcase..." Her voice grew more frantic as her rant grew. "I hate being referred to as another Obama Girl! I hate gas station coffee, and most of all I hate that no matter how hard I try, I can't stop thinking about you!" she took a deep and shaky breath and when she spoke again her voice was calm and measured. "I miss you." She heard Logan sigh into the phone and took another healthy drink from her glass.
"What am I supposed to say to that?" he asked harshly into her ear. "You're the one who didn't want to marry me! You made the choice, I didn't."
"Oh yes you did!" she snapped, surprised at the sudden turn in their conversation. "I said I didn't want to marry you, I never said I didn't want to be with you. No Logan, that was all you. And now I'm stuck in this Godforsaken limbo of still loving you and missing you and it's my fault? Damnit Logan, what was I supposed to do? Marry you when I wasn't ready? Because that always works so well. You left me Logan, I didn't leave you!"
He took a minute to let her words settle over them. "How long have you been waiting to say that?" he asked.
She set her wineglass down on the table next to her. "Since graduation," she admitted.
"Do you feel better having said it?"
"I do," she confirmed. "And if I was drunk, I might even had gone as far as to call you an asshole."
He chuckled at that. "Duly noted." There was a comfortable silence between them now.
"I'm at the Best Western," Rory confided with a giggle. "From my window, I can see The Drake Hotel. And it's raining." She paused. "I guess that's why I'm calling you tonight."
"Logan, it's too much!" she had protested as he tipped the bellhop and closed the door behind him.
"Really? I thought you'd like it here."
"I do, I love it."
"Then what's the problem? Our flight was canceled, it was an impossibly long wait for a cab, we're soaked through to the bone, there weren't any rooms at the Conrad, and we needed a place to dry off."
"The Best Western down the street would have been just fine for that," Rory pointed out.
"If we were at the Best Western we would not have this view of the storm." He gestured toward the balcony as he spoke. To further accent his point, a streak of pale purple lightning flashed against the Chicago skyline.
"It is a pretty spectacular view," Rory admitted, walking closer to the glass doors.
"From where I'm standing, it's a fantastic view."
Rory looked over her shoulder to find Logan staring not at the storm but at her and she rolled her eyes. "Could you have been any cheesier?" she asked, a faint blush staining her cheeks nonetheless.
Logan nodded as he approached her. "Oh sure. I could have said something along the lines of, we should get you out of those wet clothes." His hands peeled the coat from her shoulders, dropping it to the ground. "The last thing we need is for you to be sick during our vacation," he rationalized. He gripped her waist, his fingers skimming her damp skin. Several raindrops stood out on her bare shoulder and he bent down, flicking his tongue over them.
She shivered under his touch and busied her own hands with unbuttoning his dress shirt. Piece by piece, their clothing fell into a pile at their feet. Cold though she was, his fingers and his mouth scorched her skin, and she pressed herself flush against his body in an effort to warm him as well. She pulled his head back up to hers, seeking his mouth with her own until they dissolved into another kiss that buckled her knees.
His arms wrapped around her and in one swift movement, he had her backed up against the balcony glass, one knee wedged between her thighs to support her. Her arms went around his neck, her fingers curling into his hair as his hands began their assault over her body. She sighed as his fingers began to tease at her, trailing long and slow down over the swell of her breasts, past the curve of her stomach, and down to trace over the innermost parts of her thighs before slowly moving back up in the direction they had come from. Never once breaking their kiss.
She moaned into his mouth, pushing harder against him, aching to feel him against her, inside of her. Seconds passed like hours before finally, she felt his fingers teasing at her, pressing up into her, worshipping her.
"Outside," she whispered, pulling away and unlocking the balcony doors. "Make love to me out here. In the rain."
Logan opened his bedroom door to find his coworkers had left on their own. "Rory?" he asked, advancing on the bar.
"Yeah?" She had been so caught up in her own memories that she had almost forgotten he was still on the line.
He finished pouring his drink. "It's late," he said, not for the first time. "And I'm sure you have a very busy, very important day tomorrow, don't you?"
"Bright and early, press conference coverage all day long," she admitted. As hard as she tried to fight it, a yawn passed over her lips.
"So whether you're tired or not, you need to get some sleep." He closed himself into his bedroom again, settling into the chair next to the window. "I'll stay with you," he went on before Rory could interrupt him.
"Like we used to?" They both hated how hopeful her voice sounded, but for different reasons. When Logan had been in London, they had formed several rituals to get through the months apart. On the occasional days when Logan didn't have an early meeting, he would stay with her on the phone longer than usual, going through their daily conversations before she would start yawning before ordering her to go to bed, staying with her on the line until she fell asleep.
"Like we used to," he confirmed after a slight hesitation. "Okay Ace, into bed." He started out the window as he listened as she shuffled around her hotel room. "All settled?" he asked after a few minutes.
"Settled," she said. She sighed into the phone and rolled over onto her side. "I really do miss you, Logan," she said softly into the phone. Her eyes suddenly felt heavy, and sleep didn't seem like such a bad idea after all.
"I know," he said quietly, fighting the urge to return the sentiment. "Go to sleep, Rory."
"This proves I was right you know," she mumbled through a yawn.
"We would have been able to make this work again." Her breathing soon evened out and Logan was left to sit there and listen to her sleep as he stewed over her final words.
She must have zoned out as he lazily kissed up and down the length of her legs, because the next thing she remembered was his lips at her entrance, teasing her. She withered with every caress and moaned. The way he feverishly kissed her but gently moved over her. His tongue dove deep into her and he licked up her taste.
When he crawled up her body she felt his hardened member on her inner thigh. She wrapped her hand around him stroking him while he continued painting her body with kisses.
Once he reached her face he kissed her lips softly then ran his tongue slowly along her bottom lip. She opened her mouth and felt the heat between them as he slowly entered her pulling back then sliding in further. His tongue danced with hers and he sucked on her lip.
If he moved any slower, she surely thought she would die.
For two days he replayed the phone call in his head, rehashing every word over and over again until he had committed it all to memory, and then he spent the next two nights trying to forget it had ever happened. He hated that in the course of one phone call, she had made their situation so damn confusable. He had known where they stood up until the phone rang, and now, well, he had no idea anymore. On the third night he had finally had enough and Logan found himself punching a still familiar cell phone number into his phone. He knew the right thing to do would be to just leave it alone, but damnit, she had her say, it was his turn to have his.
"What the hell were you thinking?" He exploded into the phone as she barely got her greeting out.
"I..." she faltered. "Logan? Is that you?"
"Why would you do that? What did you possibly hope to accomplish by calling me up in the middle of the night and putting all of that on me? Did you think it was fair? Or was it just the opposite of that, Rory? Did you think it would hurt me? Was that it? Did you want to hurt me?"
"What are you talking about?" To say she was confused was putting it mildly. She vaguely remembered their phone call from earlier in the week, the one spurred on by the half bottle of merlot she had consumed, but she couldn't remember anything from it that would be the cause of Logan's outburst. "Logan, I don't understand."
"I wanted to marry you, Rory," he raged on. "And that was something I never thought I'd want for myself, but I did. I wanted all of it; the house, the kids, you and me taking the world by storm. I wanted to spend the rest of my life with you, I wanted to give you the life you deserved, whether you wanted it or not. I wanted us to be together, and I was willing to give up a hell of a lot to make that happen, and I thought you wanted the same things. I thought you wanted all of that with me, but you didn't. Rory, you made me look like a fool. I put myself out there, completely, for the first time ever, and you turned me down. You didn't even consider it."
"I did consider it!" Rory exclaimed. "Do you honestly think I never thought about spending my life with you? I thought about it way before you ever asked Logan. And I thought about it every single second from the moment you asked me to the moment you turned around and walked away from me. And if you think I haven't thought about it every moment since then?" She laughed bitterly. "I can't even remember a time I haven't thought about it."
"Then why didn't you say yes?" he asked. "Why couldn't you just have said yes?"
She sighed. "I wasn't ready," she said softly. "I never thought you'd be ready before I was and it scared me. What were you seeing that I wasn't? What did you know that I didn't? I was graduating Logan, I had no idea what I was going to do after that, but we both know if I had agreed to marry you that day, that could have been it. Once the Gilmores and the Huntzbergers had gotten wind of the engagement, I would have been whirled off into that world of just being your wife."
"I never would have let that happen to you."
"Maybe not, but I might have done it on my own. I didn't know what direction I was going in, or if I even had a direction to go in, and I could have easily just decided to let Emily and Shira mold me into what they wanted, and then what would have happened Logan? I would have been miserable. You would have been miserable."
"I wanted to marry you, Rory."
"And I wanted to marry you," she returned gently. There was a long pause over the line as they both processed what the other was saying. Finally, Logan spoke again.
"So then what the hell am I yelling about?"
He entered her fully as lightning flashed across the sky illuminating the balcony, giving him enough light to see the pleasure and pain wash over her face. They took their time as the storm picked up again around them, lasting for two, three hours.
For all they knew it could have lasted forever.
She was in the middle of a conversation with some of her colleagues when the ringing of her cell phone interrupted them. With a smile, she excused herself and tried to find a quiet spot in the busy banquet room to answer it. "Hey you."
"Hey yourself," he returned. 'You sound out of breath, what's going on over there?" It had been over a month since their first two phone calls to each other, and slowly but surely, they had been working their way back towards... well, toward what, neither was saying for fear of scaring the other, but they were definitely moving forward together, and they were both content to leave it at that for now.
"Didn't I tell you? Tonight's a meet and greet with some of Senator Obama's biggest supporters back here in Chicago." She exited the banquet room and collapsed into one of the chairs in the front lobby of the Sofitel Chicago Water Tower. "I've been on my feet for the last six hours, and let me tell you Mister, heels were not the best choice of footwear." She sighed and leaned back in the chair. "How about you? How was your meeting tonight? Everything go well?"
"It went well enough," he answered. "I think they were pleased with our business plan and they'll be getting back with us tomorrow with their final answer."
"Sounds promising. So what are your plans for the rest of the evening?"
"Oh, I'm not sure yet. I'll probably head back to the hotel; relax with a couple of drinks and enjoy the summer storm outside."
"It's raining there too?" Rory cast a glance over her shoulder out the window. Chicago's Magnificent Mile was brightly lit under the street lamps, and the headlights of cars danced in the puddles on the sidewalk. "It'd be nice if you were here with me," she confided. They were words they hadn't spoken yet during the last few weeks. There had been admissions of missing each other, of still caring about each other, but neither had been brave enough to take the next step of wanting to see each other.
"That would be nice," Logan agreed. "I wonder what we could do about that."
As if on cue, a member of the hotel staff approached Rory. "Miss Gilmore?" he asked pleasantly.
"Hang on a second," she said into the phone before turning to him. "Yes, that's me."
He extended a silver tray towards her, a pale blue envelope resting on it. "For you." He waited until she took the letter before smiling and disappearing to wherever he came from in the first place.
"You have something to do with this, don't you?" she asked, turning back to the phone as she slid a finger under the lip of the envelope.
"Why Ace, I have no idea what you're talking about."
"Mmhmm." She pulled the single piece of stationery out of the envelope and read it to herself.
I told you, a little rain couldn't keep us down for long.
Her head whipped from side to side, her eyes searching for him through the crowds of people in the lobby. "Logan!"
He laughed into the phone. "I'm not anywhere inside, Ace. I wouldn't make it that simple for you."
"Where are you?" she asked. She stood up, looking around again.
"Guess you'll have to come find me." He laughed again. "But I will say this, that dress is gorgeous on you, you should wear red more often."
"Logan!" She protested again. She whirled around, her eyes focusing on the front of the hotel lobby. She advanced on the revolving doors, pushing through the gold-encrusted glass and stepped out onto sidewalk. "Where are you?"
"You're getting warmer," he encouraged with another chuckle.
"You are impossible!" she scolded as she spun in a circle and searched in every direction. The rain was falling harder than it had been before, and in her haste, she had left the hotel without grabbing her coat or even her umbrella. She didn't care though, and as the rain plastered her hair to her head and her dress to her body, she tried to seek him out from the people clustered under their umbrellas.
Just then, a black town car sped by and as it splashed through the street, its headlights shone over the other side of the street and for a brief moment, illuminated him in the beams. He was standing there, leaning against a lamppost. Still dressed in the suit he wore earlier for his business meeting, Logan looked exactly as she remembered him, from the slightly out of control hair to the mischievous sparkle in his eye. His umbrella was slung casually over his left shoulder and he still had that same smirk on his face that she had missed so much in the past months. He was perfect.
"I see you," she whispered into the phone before disconnecting the call and stepping towards him. He motioned for her to stay where she was, and, after waiting for several cars to pass, crossed the street himself, stopping a few paces in front of her.
He lowered the umbrella then, dropping it at his feet as he spread his arms wide. "Don't make me do all the work now Ace," he said with a grin. "You gotta at least meet me halfway."
Rory smiled then, the sound coming from her throat almost a sob, and walked the remaining steps between them until she was close enough that their noses bumped. She giggled but didn't step back. They stood there quietly for a minute, the rain soaking them through as they each waited for the other to make the next move. They moved at the same time, each reaching to thumb raindrops off the other's cheek. "Hi," she whispered.
"Hi," he returned. His thumb trailed over the side of her face to trace over her lips. "I missed you." His nose brushed against hers again and she closed her eyes.
"I missed you too." Her own hand found its way into his, lacing their fingers together at their sides while her other hand clutched at the collar of his shirt, bringing him even closer. She breathed in the familiar scent of his cologne, pleased to find it not watered down by the rain at all, and reached to touch her lips tentatively to the slightly stubbled skin of his cheek. At the very last second he turned his head just a fraction of an inch and her lips landed on his.
That split-second kiss was all Logan needed to envelope her in a bone-crushing embrace. His hands pulled her closer; his arms wrapped firmly around her waist as he devourer her mouth greedily.
They made a pretty picture that night, the two of them embracing beneath the streetlamp on that stormy Chicago night, and passer-by's stopped and smiled at the happy couple before continuing on their paths. Neither of them were aware of this, or of the way their clothes clung to them, or of the chill in the late summer air as raindrops dripped from their bodies into the puddle beneath them. The only thing either was aware of was the other, and how right it felt to be in each others' arms again.
Finally, Logan pulled away and grinned at her. "We should get you inside and out of the rain," he said as he bent to retrieve his dropped umbrella. He draped an arm around her shoulder and she slipped one around his waist as they began strolling down the street. "Any particular place you want to go?"
Rory smiled and leaned her head against his shoulder as they walked. She gave the answer she knew he was expecting.
"I hear the Drake has a fabulous view."