Hello everyone! I know that I have stories that need to be updated but I was just inspired and I couldn't help writing this. I hope you all like it. It's plenty long. :P Anyway, please leave a review!

Summary: Rory Gilmore is almost thirty years old and in need of a serious change in her life. But will running into a certain blond make her want to revert to her old ways instead? One-shot. Rogan.

Disclaimer: I don't own Gilmore Girls

Closing Doors

In a way it was ironic that Rory Gilmore found herself in a place such as this, and then in a way it wasn't. To say that bars weren't her scene was an understatement, but at the same time she was twenty-nine years old – pushing thirty – single, and seemingly always on the brink of depression, so bars full of booze and men probably should have appealed to her more than they did. It seemed, however, that they only made her feel even shittier about herself by the time she left. She was never one for the dating scene. As her mother had told her long ago, she was more of a relationship kind of girl.

But, as it was, the last relationship she had found herself in was a complete and utter train wreck, and as for the three before, well, they weren't shining examples of functionability either. Sure, they all had their good points. But didn't everything? After all, the Autobahn was built during Nazi Germany, but that certainly didn't make it a shining example of governing.

Needless to say Rory found herself needing some kind of change in the way she went about her relationships, and if getting to know men as friends before entering a relationship with them had worked so horribly four times before, she wasn't about to do it again. She was going to give the dating scene a try. And while she hated bars and practically had to be dragged into them, somewhere in the back of her mind she knew that this was probably good for her. After all, she had never seen herself thirty and single. In fact, a year ago she was pretty damn sure she was going to be married by now, or at least engaged.

She was wrong.

So now she found herself in The Tonic Bar in the middle of Times Square in the heart of New York City, a far cry away from Luke's Diner in the middle of the town square in the heart of Stars Hollow. A glass of merlot in her hands, she couldn't help but wish that she instead found herself holding a giant mug of coffee, sitting in one of those crappy red chairs, surrounded by giant windows and walls of bright blue. It was a stark contrast to the harsh contemporary red and brown surrounding her.

"You, my dear, look seriously down in the dumps," her best friend Rachel slurred, plopping down in the booth next to her. Rory blanched as her friend leaned into her.

"Rach, you know how people say that you can't smell vodka?" she asked.

"Uh huh!"

"Well I think they underestimated just how much vodka you can consume. Your breath is rank."

"Rory, Rory, Rory," Rachel said. "This isn't vodka! It's gin!"

"Well, that explains it then," Rory said, bored with the conversation already. She had never been one to put up with drunkenness and carrying her best friend home wasn't exactly how she wanted to spend her evening.

"Actually…" Rachel continued. "It isn't anything at the moment. Cause it's empty. So….would you be so kind as to…"

"Get you another?"

"Rory!" Rachel said, a hand covering her heart and a smile lighting her face. "That's so nice of you to think. I would appreciate that greatly." Rachel handed her a ten-dollar bill and Rory accepted it, rolling her eyes. If she wasn't worried about Rachel falling all over herself on the way to the bar she would have made her get one herself.

She pushed her way through the crowd, ignoring the glances of the countless number of men checking her out on the way to the bar. She wanted to roll her eyes but then felt stupid for feeling that way. After, all that was the reason why she had come here – to meet guys.

It wasn't her fault, however, that none of the guys here appealed to her at all. The brunette that had sent her her glass of merlot looked far too much like her father for her liking. It really just creeped her out. And then there was the redhead that had been sending her weird stalker serial killer-like looks. She reminded herself not to leave the bar alone that night. She would have to ask Rachel and Bill for a ride home. Hopefully Bill since Rachel shouldn't be within ten feet of a steering wheel.

There hadn't been any blonds that caught her eye yet and hopefully there wouldn't be. Blonds weren't really her type. Which was ironic considering the fact that the most stable relationship of her life had been with a blond. Dean was a brunette. Jess was a brunette. Marty was a brunette. Maybe she should consider finding another blond.

Curiously she looked around the room trying to spot a blond. There was one sitting in a group of boys that she could only assume were frat boys from NYU. There was one sitting in a booth across the room who she had a sneaking suspicion might not be a man at all. There was one who looked like he was probably pushing fifty that made her wonder if that hair was really natural.

And then she saw him – a blond – early thirties at the most, sitting at the bar holding a small snifter filled with an amber liquid (no ice). He wasn't touching the peanuts in front of him and on closer inspection his eyes were closed. Rory couldn't help but laugh. She had seen this scene before.

She didn't know if she had the courage to approach him. She had spent the whole night avoiding speaking to anyone. But how on earth was she supposed to walk away from him? She shook her head and took a deep breath, finally building up the courage to approach.

"Hubbell," she said simply. And his eyes opened. He opened his eyes and his face fell in astonishment. She couldn't help but smile at him as he stared back at her, his face looking like that of a fish.

"Hey," he said. "What do you know?"

"Small world isn't it?" she asked. He started back at her again, his mouth unable to form a word. "This is the part where you ask me if you fell asleep," she informed him. "And then I…. ask if you want a cup of coffee."

He laughed. "I have my scotch, thank you."

"What are you doing here, Logan?" she asked softly. Last time she checked he was happily living on the west coast with no hopes of returning to the east anytime soon.

"Drinking," he answered before pointing to one of the giant screens behind him. "Watching ESPN."

"I mean what are you doing in New York?"

"What do you think I'm doing in New York? I'm eating hot dogs, seeing the Statue of Liberty, The Empire State Building. I even thought I might be really crazy and go to a show at Radio City Music Hall."

Rory rolled her eyes. "I'm sorry I'm being such a bother to you, I'll just get my drink and be on my way. You'll never have to talk to me again," she said, turning around and beginning to step away from him. Logan caught her arm, stopping her.

"Rory, wait," he said. "I'm sorry. I'm here on business. It's nice to see you, really. I don't know why I was being so difficult." Rory turned around to him again and bit her lip. "Please," he said, gesturing to the stool next to him. "Have a seat."

Rory smiled and took the seat next to him. "Thanks," she said. An awkward silence fell between them and Rory started tapping her fingers on the bar top. She glanced at Logan's hand, lying dangerously close to the bowl of peanuts. "I hope you haven't eaten any of those."

"No," Logan said. "No, your uh…your urine mint story has kind of stuck with me all these years."

"Good," she said, nodding. "So how have you been? Business is going well? You're making a decent living?"

Logan nodded. "Business is great. How are you?"

"Great," Rory said with a smile and a nod.

"Good I'm glad," Logan said, gesturing at her with his snifter before taking a sip of his scotch. In some ways it warmed Rory's heart to know that some things about him would never change.

An awkward silence hung in the air as they sat next to each other, neither knowing quite what to do or what to say.

"Is this really what we've come to?" Rory asked. Logan remained silent, sending her a questioning glance with a quirk of an eyebrow. Rory rolled her eyes. "I feel like I should offer you a salmon puff."

"I'm sorry?"

"It's like we're at a DAR party just….pretending to be mildly interested in the most mundane things in each other's lives. We used to know everything about each other. There was a time when you knew more about me than my mother did."

"How is Lorelai?"

"Logan," Rory pleaded. Logan set down his drink and shrugged his shoulders dramatically.

"What, Rory? I don't know what you want me to do here…or say… I don't…I don't know."

Rory bit her lip and nodded. "It's been a long time."

"Seven years," Logan said, shaking his head.

"I've read about you," Rory said. "In the Wall Street Journal and on The Daily Beast and stuff. I saved all the articles so that I would remember to tell you how proud I am of you the next time I saw you. But uh….now I guess I just sound like a creepy stalker or something."

"You're not creepy," Logan assured. "I appreciate it."

"I even had a chance to interview you once. You were in town for a launch and it was an assignment but I…well I opted not to do it because…well I guess it would have been a bit awkward."

Logan nodded. "Probably."

"Oh! And you were on The Daily Show! That was amazing! I was just in bed and all of a sudden you were on The Daily Show! I couldn't believe it!"

"Yep, that was me."

"You kept up with Jon Stewart perfectly. I think he was surprised by how funny you are. I wasn't though. I knew you were going to be great since he announced that you were his guest. You got a nice few digs on your Dad and HPG and how you're going to be richer than him in a few years because he isn't quite getting the fact that more people are lining their bird cages with papers rather than reading them. It was great. You should hold out for The Colbert Report."

"If he asks me I'll come on."

"I'm really proud of you Logan," Rory said, her tone becoming very serious. "You've really made something of yourself."

"Thanks," Logan said. Rory nodded and looked down at her hands where she was winding her fingers together nervously. "You've done well for yourself too."

Rory shrugged. "If you consider moving from paper to paper and mainly writing freelance doing well then, yeah, I guess I've done really well for myself."

"But your stuff is getting picked up by good publications. I've read some of it. You're making a name for yourself."

"It's hard. Harder than I thought it would be," Rory said. "After the campaign trail it took me ages to find a job. I almost started to regret going into journalism. I guess I was arrogant enough to think that all that stuff about the shrinking journalism field didn't apply to someone as good as me."

"You weren't arrogant. You were passionate. Give it some more time. You'll be the next Maureen Dowd I'm sure of it."

Rory smiled. "I hope you're right."

"I am right," Logan said. "So what brings you to a crowded New York bar on a Thursday night? It doesn't really seem like your scene."

"Oh," Rory said. "My friend Rachel and her fiancé Bill. They've convinced me that I'm going about the dating scene all wrong and its time for me to get out and meet men."

"Well if you want I could pretend to be your hookup for the night,"

Rory laughed. "Thanks, but I don't think that would work. She knows who you are."

"She does?"

"Yes, and in fact she's probably already seen me talking to you and that's probably the reason why she hasn't come over here and harassed me for forgetting to get her gin and tonic."

Rory's face flushed white and her mouth popped open. She didn't quite know how to answer that question without letting him in on the fact that she had never really gotten over him – that she got a dreamy look in her eye whenever she was reminded of him – that extremely drunk on the fifth anniversary of her graduation from Yale and began crying to Rachel about what had happened that day and how it was one of the worst days of her life. Later that night she had gone home to her boyfriend and had to pretend that she didn't just spend the night crying over her ex.

"She just…um…knows that I probably would want to talk to you alone for a bit."

Logan furrowed his brow for a moment. "Why?"

"I miss you, Logan," Rory all but whispered. Maybe it was the wine, maybe it was desperation, but for some reason in that moment Rory built up enough courage to reach her hand out on the counter and cover his.

His hand felt the same, cold and dry, in serious need of some hand crème. Logan was never one to moisturize. She used to leave a bottle of lotion on the bathroom counter next to his shaving crème but he never got the point. His hands were always dry.

Logan looked down at their entwined hands and cocked his head to the side in confusion. Rory could tell that he didn't quite know how their awkward meeting had come to this. Frankly she didn't either, but she did know that she didn't fully realize how much she missed the feel of his hand on hers.

"I missed you too," he said. "Hey do you uh….do you want to get out of here? I'm staying at The Westin, it's just a couple of blocks away…"

She should have expected nothing less of him. Yet, she didn't have time to think about much of anything as Logan immediately captured her lips in a passionate embrace, his tongue slipped into her mouth and Rory, although practically hypnotized by the familiar feel of his tongue massaging hers and the taste of his mouth, began to worry if this was going a bit too fast.

"Logan," she mumbled, softly pushing him away. He reluctantly peeled his lips from hers and looked down at her in confusion.

"What?" he asked, his hands running up and down her arms tugging at the stretchy cotton of her sweater. Rory knew that he was just trying to think of the easiest way to rip it off of her.

"What are we doing?" she asked.

Logan made a show of looking around and then looked back at her. "I think we're going to have sex," he whispered, blowing a breath reeking of scotch into Rory's face. She pulled back, waving away the air in front of her face.

"Are you only doing this because you're really drunk?" Rory asked.

"Noooo…" Logan said. "I'm doing this because you're really hot."


"Rory," he said, rolling his eyes. "I want this. I want you. I miss you. Please don't back out of this now. I don't think I'd be able to take enough cold showers in one night to get rid of the problem I have right now if you left."

"I hate it when you work blue," Rory said, a blush lighting her cheeks.

"That's my line," Logan said with a smile.

All protests aside, Rory didn't try to stop it at all when Logan went in for another kiss. All her reserves broke down as his tongue slipped into her mouth once more. She dropped her purse on the floor and wrapped her arms around her neck, holding on to him for dear life.

For a moment, she briefly wondered if this was a dream. It seemed like the only plausible explanation for what was occurring. She had often dreamt of his kisses – his….well… she had dreamt of other things as well. But they had never felt so real before, so this must have actually been happening. It seemed too good to be true.

They blindly stumbled through his suite, Logan trying to remember the layout of the place well enough to get her to the bedroom without having to stop making out with her. They only ran into the couch once and managed not to hit any hard furniture corners.

By the time the reached the bedroom, Logan had managed to free Rory of the stretchy cotton sweater, throwing it on the floor without any regard for how expensive it was. She stood in front of him, wearing a slinky black dress with spaghetti straps and a deep v-cut.

Logan shook his head. "Why must you cover that up?" he asked. Rory rolled her eyes. "You should show more skin. You're gorgeous."

"You're horny," Rory countered.

"That has nothing to do with it," Logan lied, pulling her closer and kissing every inch of skin that he had just exposed. Rory sighed in content, closing her eyes to savor the feel of him.

His hands climbed up her back until they found the top of the dress and he pulled down the zipper. Pushing the tiny straps off her shoulders, he let the dress fall off of her onto the floor, leaving her in nothing but her underwear and thigh highs. He pushed her back onto the bed and straddled her legs with his knees. Kneeling over her, he pushed his hands through her hair, caressing the back of her head and leaning down for another scorching kiss.

Rory took advantage of her position and brought her hands forward to undo the buttons on his black oxford shirt. She pushed it off of his shoulders, letting it fall to the floor, and ran her hands along his exposed chest. She noticed immediately that he was much hairier than he was years ago. It was kind of nice. He felt more like a man than a boy.

She moved her hands downward to make work of his belt as he slipped off his shoes with his feet. She was busy unbuttoning his pants when he pushed her further back onto the bed, surprising her with the force. Logan slipped out of his pants, leaving him in his underwear.

He hooked his fingers through the band of her right thigh high and began rolling it down her leg, kissing every inch of skin as it became exposed. Rory threw her head back into the pillow and lifted her leg. She pointed her toe in the air so he could easily slip the stocking off of her foot and gasped in surprise when he sucked her big toe into his mouth. She couldn't remember him ever doing something like that to her before.

As he started on the next leg, Rory slid her hand down her torso, under the band of her panties and began rubbing herself in circles. She heard Logan growl and the next thing she knew her left stocking was gone and her panties were being ripped off of her, leaving her completely naked beneath him.

With a guttural grunt, Logan started worshiping every inch of her. He started at her breasts, placing kisses along her cleavage and taking her nipples into his mouth, sucking and nipping at them until she whimpered in pleasure. His hand traveled south and pushed away the hand that she was still using to satisfy herself. His fingers quickly took her place, two slipping inside of her while his thumb rubbed her clit in circles.

Rory moaned in pleasure, her hips grinding against him. She took advantage of her free hands and pushed his boxers down. As soon as he was free she grasped him in her hand and began pumping him up and down.

"Fuck!" Logan groaned, momentarily losing his concentration. He quickly regained his composure and began working her harder, causing her to gasp and thrash in pleasure. In a matter of minutes she reached her peak and screamed out in ecstasy.

"Are you still on the pill?" Logan asked as she came down from her high.

"Yeah," she answered breathlessly, and before she had time to think he thrust inside of her. She gasped in surprise and bucked her hips against his. "Logan!"

"God, Rory!" he said, wasting no time in starting a pace. He thrust in and out of her, taking no time being delicate. Rory clung to him, digging her hands through his hair and down his back. She was certain to leave scratches in the places where her nails dug into his skin.

As he began to get close to his end, he slipped his hand back into her folds and played with her until she screamed his name again and he felt her muscles tighten around him. Seconds later he came, exploding inside of her. He collapsed on top of her, a sweaty mass of flesh.

Trying desperately to catch her breath, Rory lay beneath him, her eyes closed and her chest heaving up and down. She lifted her hands to his back and began stroking his skin where she had marked it.

"Logan," she breathed. "You're crushing me."

"I can't move," he groaned.

"Yes, you can," Rory said, pushing him off of her so that he could flop on his back. He sprawled across the other side of the bed and pulled her to him. He wrapped his arms tightly around her and she laid her head on his chest.

"That felt good," he said. "I think that might have been the best we've ever had."

"Oh I dunno," Rory said. "That first time you came home from London was pretty good too."

Logan moaned in agreement. "That was good, wasn't it?"


"I need water," Logan said, climbing out of bed and slipping his boxers on again. "Do you want water?"

"Yes please!" Rory said with a smile.

She watched him with a smile a mile wide as he walked out of the bedroom to retrieve a beverage for both of them. She couldn't take her eyes off his ass as he walked away. A few seconds later he returned, carrying two bottles of water in his hands.

"Here you are, gorgeous," Logan said. Rory looked him up and down and smiled. He was gorgeous. There wasn't one change on his body that wasn't for the better. Every muscle in his body was more defined than it had been in college. His black boxer briefs hugged his toned waist perfectly and…well….she was much too demure to say what exactly they did for that particular part of his anatomy. But she approved.

"Thank you," she said, taking the bottle from his hand. "You know what I don't understand?" Rory asked as Logan climbed back into the bed, slipping in next to her and settling himself under the covers. He turned on his side, propping his head up with his hand and gazed at her.

"Hmm?" he asked, reaching forward and running a finger up and down the length of her arm.

"This is The Westin right?"

"That is correct, yes," Logan teased.

"Well…it's just. I don't get their thought process. I mean, their guests have enough money to pay for a suite like this and yet they brag about one of their services being free bottled water?"

Logan laughed out loud. "Come on, Ace, you know how those mini bar bills can get."

Rory smiled. "I miss that."

"What, mini bar bills?" Logan asked, a boyish giggle escaping his lips. Rory briefly wondered if he laughed like that often or if it was just being with her, a reminder of his youthful college days, that brought it out in him.

"No," she answered. The smile fell off Logan's face and he looked at her seriously.

"I miss saying it," he said simply, not needing an explanation. "I tried to replace it, you know. I called my ex-wife Red. It wasn't quite the same. Plus she hated it. She hated her hair, said it clashed with everything…"

"You were married?" Rory squeaked.

Logan looked down at her, his face forming an 'O' when he realized that she didn't know that about him. She didn't know that after she had turned him down his mother went on a crusade trying to get him to agree to date Jennifer Fallon. She didn't know that he actually found himself falling for her. She didn't know that Jenny had followed him to California and they were married within two years after their break-up. She didn't know that their relationship was doomed from the start because no matter how lovely he thought his wife was, in the back of his mind he was always comparing her to someone else.

"Uh…yeah. Yes, I was," he said with a shrug. "It didn't uh…It didn't work out."

"I'm sorry," Rory said.

"Eh," Logan said, waving it off. He reached over to the nightstand, picking up his wallet and began fumbling through it. "It was worth it," he said as he pulled out a picture of a little angel with big brown eyes and strawberry blonde hair, smiling up at the camera with an impish little grin that Rory had seen so many times before.

Her heart froze and her breath stopped. She took the picture from his hands and stared at it for what seemed like hours. And when she finally gained the strength to look back at him she saw him gazing down at the picture with a look of pure joy and pride.

"That's my baby girl," he explained, mootly. Rory knew exactly who it was. "She's three. Although, if she were here she would remind me that she is most certainly not three. She is three and three quarters." Rory laughed. "Her name is Margaret - after grandmother. We call her Molly."

"She's beautiful," Rory said, handing the picture back to him.

"Yeah, she is. Isn't she?" Logan mused looking at the picture for a while longer. "I hate coming out here and leaving her there. I haven't seen her in weeks."

"I'm sorry," Rory said, running a hand through his hair. Logan smiled at the touch and leaned in to kiss her again. Rory accepted without protest, losing herself once again in the taste of him..

"For what?" Logan asked as he broke away.

Rory bit her lip and shook her head slightly, gazing into his pained expression. "I just…I know how important those kind of things are for you. You know, love… I'm sorry it didn't work out."

Logan shrugged and looked down, fingering the edge of the white cotton blanket. "Well….you know…I guess sometimes it doesn't matter how much you love someone….things just…don't work out."

He met her eyes once more and she stared back at him in silence, brown meeting blue. Neither of them blinked for what seemed like years. Staring into each other's eyes was like staring into the past. They were both catching a glimpse of themselves ten years ago – younger, happier, the time when the world was their oyster. Who wouldn't want to slip back into those days?

"I guess so," Rory said. "Do you… Do you ever wonder what life would be like now if…"

"All the time," Logan answered.

The edges of Rory's lips curled up into a solemn smile. She brushed the messy blond hair off of Logan's forehead, dragging her fingertips across his perfect skin. "I never stopped loving you, Logan."

"Me neither."

"I thought my ex-boyfriend was going to propose one night. He ended up breaking up with me. He said I obviously wasn't over you. I guess he was right. I think….in the back of my mind I never wanted to get to serious with him because…I always wondered what would happen if you ever came back."

"I'm not coming back, Rory."

Rory looked away and tried desperately to keep the tears from filling her eyes. She knew that when she eventually failed that task she wouldn't be able to look him in the eye any longer. She nodded and chewed her bottom lip almost to the point of puncturing it.

"I know," she said. "It took me seven years to figure it out but…I know."

"Hey," Logan said, running a hand through her hair to her chin and lifting it up to look at him. "Let's not make this a sad thing, alright. Let's be happy that we have this moment together."

"Agreed," Rory said.

Logan smiled back at her and leaned in for another kiss. He tangled a hand in her hair and rolled over so that he was on top of her before kissing a trail down her neck.

"Meh, what are you doing?" Rory asked, looking over at the clock to see that it was three o'clock in the morning.

"Round two, Ace," he said, reaching underneath the covers and peeling off his boxer shorts. "Surely you're not too old to remember life when sex occurred more than once a night."

"I dunno," she said. "They say senility comes with age. You'll have to remind me."

Logan laughed. "I think I can handle that."

The morning light peered through the window, casting a pattern of diagonal stripes along the bed from the blinds. Rory groaned as she came into consciousness, the wine from last night turning her stomach in an unpleasant way. As soon as she shook off her dreamy haze, her nostrils were met with a scent that she hadn't woken up to in ten years. It was so familiar – musky – wonderful. Her lips cracked into a smile.

Kicking her leg out to the side, she felt around the best for the mass of flesh she expected to find next to her. But there was nothing there. She shot out her arm, thumping the mattress in the process and was met only with empty sheets.

"Logan?" she asked, sitting up, rubbing her eyes, and glancing around the bedroom. He was nowhere to be found.

She ran a hand through her hair, looking around at the mess of clothes on the floor. They certainly hadn't wasted any time last night. Spotting Logan's discarded black oxford on the floor, Rory climbed out of bed, covering herself due to the strange paranoia that someone might be looking in through the open city window. She had a fear of perverts with telescopes. She slipped on the shirt and tiptoed her way out of the door where she began to hear a one-sided conversation.

"I'll bet you were the best swimmer in the pool."

Rory smiled and waved, stepping out into the small living area and leaning against the camel colored couch. Logan smiled back and mouthed an apology as he pointed to his phone. Rory shook her head with a smile and pulled his shirt down a little further for a little more modesty. Logan was standing by the small dining table, trying to balance his phone on his shoulder while he tied his tie. Rory resisted the urge to laugh at him.

"Oh, well, of course. I wouldn't expect anything else."

Rory smiled at his tone, clearly recognizing it as the playful voice that he once used while he was trying to keep up with her ridiculous banter.

"Now, you know that's not polite to ask," Logan said as he threw his necktie on the floor in frustration. Rory covered her mouth to keep her laugh in and walked over to it, picking it up off the floor and repositioning it around his neck for him.

"You, young lady, aren't going to get anything at all if you don't stop asking. You'll see it when I get home." Rory smiled as she began to tie his tie, catching a glimpse of a giant pink teddy bear in the back corner of the room.

"I miss you too, Nugget. I'll be home before you know it. Can I talk to Mommy now?" There was a pause on the line and Rory looked up at him, trying not to convey through her gaze that she was uncomfortable at the mention of his ex-wife. She smiled at him and was about two steps away from finishing his tie when he pushed her hands away and stepped back.

"Jen, hey," he said, turning around and pacing around the room. Rory's hand were frozen in mid-air where he had pushed them and she was starting them in shock, her heart hurt from his sudden cold rejection.

"Yeah…I uh…I'll call you when my plane lands and I'll swing by after that." Logan ran a hand through his hair, sending Rory an awkward glance before looking down at his feet.

"Yeah, right. I'll uh…I'll see you then. Bye." Logan hung up the phone and sent a guilty look to Rory who was still standing frozen in astonishment. "I'm sorry," he said. "I just… I can't talk to my ex-wife while a half-naked girl is tying my tie. I mean…she's the mother of my kid, it's just…awkward."

"Sure," Rory said. To be honest she was more than offended. Yet, ironically, not by Logan's actions but by the suggestion that she was 'some girl' and Jen had the seniority in his life. After all she was in his life first. They loved each other first. Didn't that count for anything?

Logan finished up his tie on his own and Rory awkwardly shifted her weight from foot to foot. "Rory," he said, pleadingly. "Please. I'm really sorry. I didn't mean to offend you I just…It's like talking to your Mom when you're in bed with someone, you know? It's weird."

"No," Rory said, shaking her head. "It's okay. I understand."

"I'm glad that you're here. I love that you're here," he said. "I don't regret last night at all. It's just…not something that I'm going to tell Jen about, you know? She… she gets weird. If she thinks I'm out sowing wild oats then she'll get on my case about Molly and how I'm not being responsible enough. I just… It was weird. I didn't mean to push you away like that."

"I know," Rory said, nodding. Logan sighed and walked over to her, wrapping his arms around her in a hug.

"So," Logan said, breaking their embrace. "Now that I've succeeded in fucking up what could have been a great morning after, can I get you some coffee?"

Rory smiled. "Do you even have to ask?"

Logan laughed and poured her a mug. "My shirt looks good on you by the way," he said, handing her the steaming hot beverage.

"Thanks," she said, a red blush tinting her cheeks. She hated herself as she felt the heat travel to her face. She was a twenty-nine year old woman who still blushed at the mention the vaguest of innuendo. "You look nice."

"Thanks," Logan said with a chuckle. "I have a meeting with The New York Times this morning which should be a breeze considering the fact that even though I don't work for my father anymore everyone there still wants to shit themselves when they hear my last name."

Rory laughed. "That is true," she said, nodding her head.

"Oh yeah," Logan asked. "How do you know?"

"I worked there for a bit a couple years after graduation. I got laid off when they starting cutting down during the recession and I started writing for Hugo again. But I decided to stay in New York."

"Oh," Logan said. "I'm sorry. That must have really sucked for you."

Rory shrugged. "So what time is your meeting over? Maybe we can….get together afterward."

Logan winced. "Well my meeting should be over by noon but then I'm meeting my father for lunch afterward and my plane is leaving at three."

"Oh," Rory said. "Well….maybe you could try to get another plane. I don't want this to be out goodbye. We should try to spend a little more time together."

Logan shook his head. "I'd love to spend more time with you Rory. And…a few years ago maybe I would have done that. But…I have a little girl waiting for me in California who's going to be up late enough as it is."

Rory looked down at her feet and nodded. "Right, duh, stupid Rory. Of course you have to go home."

"I wish I could stay," he said.

Rory bit her lip, trying desperately to distract herself from the pain in her heart. Tears flooded her eyes and she silently begged them to dissolve quickly so that he wouldn't see them. She couldn't let him see how much this affected her.

Why on earth she thought that last night meant anything more than a fling with an ex was beyond her. Every rational part of her brain was telling her that Logan had left this world behind years ago, that his life was on the other side of the country, that he had no reason to come back here. She didn't understand why she still expected him to chase her. He would only be moving backward.

"Well," she said, hope creeping into her voice. "Are you going to be in town again soon? You could give me a call or-"

"I don't know when I'll be back, Rory."

"Well you have to come back sometime, right? I mean…your family is here…"

Logan shook his head. "My family is there."


"Rory," Logan said, stepping forward and placing a hand on her shoulder. He could tell how emotional she was getting. "Last night was amazing. But let's not….make more of it than it was."

Rory crossed her arms across her chest, hugging herself. She looked away from him as she desperately tried not to unleash a sob.

"I love you, Rory. I'll always love you but… this thing," he gestured between them. "…between us. It'll never work."

"How do you know?" Rory asked as the tears slipped down her cheeks. "How do you know if we don't try? We can try again. You can come back here and then Molly can come and visit us. I'm really good with kids. I love kids and-"

Logan shook his head. "Rory, my life is in San Francisco."

"But your life could be here," she said. "With me. There could be an us again. Don't you want there to be an us again?"

"There's not going to be an us again, Rory," Logan said. "It ended seven years ago."


"This is never going to work, Rory," Logan said. "Because both of us are too stubborn to be the one to chase after the other."

"But I love you," she cried. Logan closed his eyes, composing herself and bent down, capturing her lips in a passionate embrace.

"I love you, too," he said.

He brought a hand to her cheek and brushed his thumb underneath her eyes, wiping her tears away. Rory knew he was right. It was the basis of all their problems. It was the reason they had ended it seven years ago. Neither of them was willing to sacrifice the life they wanted for the other.

Logan reached into his pocket and pulling out a small piece of paper. "This is my card. If you're ever in San Francisco…"


"Gimme a call. You can meet Molly. You'd love her."

Rory nodded. "I'm sure I would."

A painful silence fell between them. Rory chewed on her thumb and Logan pressed his lips together, both of them trying to ignore the heartache of saying goodbye again. Rory almost wished she hadn't run into him last night. She wasn't sure if their one night of passion was worth the weeks of heartache she was going to endure trying to get over him all over again.

"I uh…I have to check out when I go downstairs. You can stay here until noon. But um…there should be a guy coming to get my stuff to send home in a couple hours. So you might not want to be here. But for all I know it could be Frank so you might want to stay."

Rory smiled. "I missed Frank."

Logan sighed. "You know…" he paused. "Maybe this is what we've needed for seven years. Just…closure."

Rory nodded. "Right. Closure."

Logan nodded. "Goodbye, Rory," he said, turning on his heel and heading toward the door. He picked up a briefcase by the door and swung the strap over his shoulder.

"Bye," Rory squeaked as she watching him walk away all over again.

She ran to the door and held it open, tears flowing down her cheeks as she watched him step into the elevator and the doors begin to close on him. She waved and then hugged herself around the middle, trying to literally hold herself together. He gave her a nod and avoided her eyes, afraid that he would break down in front of her.

Both of us are too stubborn to be the one to chase after the other.

His words rung in her head, as the probably would for the rest of her life. Without even realizing it, Logan had summarized the tragedy of their relationship. No matter how much they loved each other, no matter how much they wished they could have a happily ever after, it was never meant to be. They led two separate lives.

Rory bent down, picking up her purse that she had dropped in front of the door last night. She wiped away her tears and fished out her phone. Pressing the speed dial, she called the one person who she knew would always be in her life, no matter what.

"Hey, Mom," she said. "I'm in the mood for some Barbara and Robert. How about I come over tonight? I'll be there in a couple hours."

She put her phone back in her purse and fell onto the couch, clutching her face in her hands as she sobbed for the love of her life that she would never share her life with.

Wiping her eyes once again, she stood up, put her clothes on, and walked out of the hotel, holding her head high and ignoring the bellboys sniggering at her walk of shame. She walked out the door.

As the hotel doors came to a close behind her, she realized that they had come closed on that chapter in her life. With this one night she had finally said goodbye to Logan Huntzberger. She had said goodbye to her college life, to every single string of her youth that she was still holding on to.

She made a sharp left, clutching the strap of her purse in her hand as she walked down the sidewalk, leaving Times Square in her wake. She would walk toward her apartment until her feet gave out beneath her. Because that was what Rory Gilmore did.

She would hold on until she couldn't hold on any longer.

The End.

So it was a sad ending I know. I tried to make it happy but it just didn't fit. Anyway, tey needed closure. Everyone needs closure and Logan just turning on his heel and walking away like he did really isn't closure. I hope you liked it. Please, please, please review! :)