Thank you for reading my new fan fic which will be based on Rory and Logan. Most of what you need to know will be explained in the story but I may add things from time to time. I appreciate feedback so please comment after reading.
I hope you enjoy ...
Chapter 1: We've got a long flight ahead of us
Rory Gilmore stepped onto the plane and turned left towards the first class section. She found her seat and was very happy to find it was a window seat. Flying made her very nervous but somehow being able to look out the window helped. She placed her oversized Gucci bag on her lap and started taking out the things she may need during the flight; two books got placed in the pocket of the seat in front of her as well as her i-pod. When she was happy she had everything she needed, she got up and lifted it into the overhead locker. She momentarily struggled and thought the bag was going to either fall on her or onto the floor but just in time a hand reached out and pushed the bag firmly onto the shelf.
"Thank you," she said, turning to face her helper. She found a handsome blonde man, about her age.
"No problem," he replied, smiling. She sat back down in her seat but the guy didn't move away. Instead he placed his shoulder bag onto the seat next to her and started pulling out folders that looked very professional.
"4B?" she asked, watching him.
"Yep. We've got a long flight ahead of us."
"Don't remind me," Rory sighed.
"Not a fan of planes?" he asked.
"No. I'm a little better once we're up in the air as long as there's no turbulence but I absolutely hate take off," Rory explained.
"Well I'm a very good traveller and it doesn't faze me so I'll try and keep you calm," he smiled as he sat down.
"By the looks of it you have a lot of reading to do," she said, indicating the folders he had now placed in the pocket in front of him. He sat down and turned to her.
"I could say the same to you," he said. "Two books?"
"I like reading," she defended. "Besides, one is an autobiography and one is a novel so I can choose based on what my mood is. So, you must be very busy and important to have to read reports on the plane."
"I kind of had this trip ... sprung on me," the guy answered.
"What are you going to New York for? A business meeting?"
"I'm actually going to my parents house in Connecticut. I work for my father's company but am based in London. He called a couple of days ago and said I needed to come home for a meeting."
"You're from Connecticut? Where?"
"Just outside Hartford. Why?"
"I'm from Hartford," smiled Rory, thinking what an amazing coincidence that was.
"Really? What have you been doing in London?"
"Travelling. I graduated last summer and since then I've been travelling round Europe."
"What college did you go to?"
"So you're clever then."
"I like to think so. Did you go to college?"
"As a matter of fact I did. Yale. But I would have graduated a year before you."
"Small world," Rory mused.
"So, do you have a favourite European country?" he asked.
"Hmm that's a hard one. Paris was wonderful and visiting Fez was a childhood dream come true but I think I'm going to go with Rome. The architecture there is amazing and the people were really friendly and it just had everything."
"Did you travel alone?"
"For most of it. At first I was with Paris, my best friend and roommate from Yale. But then she had to leave to attend Harvard Medical School, leaving me alone. I liked it though. Gave me a lot of time to think."
"The point of travelling is that you don't need to think, you just kick back and relax, only worrying about where you're going next and where to eat."
"Sounds like you're speaking from experience."
"Maybe. My friends and I have visited many countries on our travels."
"Ladies and Gentlemen, this is your captain speaking. Unfortunately we are experiencing some difficulties getting a slot for take off. The bad weather last night has caused delays. We will be taxiing towards the run way as soon as there is an opening. Hopefully it won't take too long."
"Great," sighed Rory.
"Look at it this way, there's more time for you to read your books," the guy smiled.
An hour later, in which Rory started reading her novel whilst listening to her I-pod and her neighbour went through some of his reports, the plane finally started moving away from the building. Noticing this, Rory placed her bookmark back into the book and replaced it, along with the I-pod, back into the seat pocket. She looked out of the window and watched the airport building go by.
"You do realise that you are more likely to be in a car accident than a plane crash," pointed out her neighbour.
"That doesn't really help," frowned Rory.
"Okay, how about I try distracting you?" he suggested. "What did you major in at Yale?"
"Interesting. Did you write for the Yale Daily News?"
"I was editor my senior year," she smiled. "What did you major?"
"Economics," he said with a strange look on his face.
"What's with the face?" she asked.
"Economics wasn't exactly my choice. My father insisted on it. I didn't get a choice of college either."
"My grandfather went to Yale so it was expected of me," revealed Rory. "But it is a great school."
"So you're from another Alumni family. It's amazing we haven't bumped into each other before at some party or another."
"I try to avoid the parties as much as possible. At Yale I was always too busy anyway. At home my grandparents make me go to as many as possible though."
"So if you grew up in Hartford and you're from society, which I'm guessing you are, you must have gone to Chilton."
"Correct. But I don't remember seeing you there."
"Ah well that it because I was shipped off to boarding school at the age of 7."
"Yeah. I went to a school in Vermont until 11 and then my parents decided I was old enough to be shipped off to Europe so I've been to schools in London, Switzerland, Austria, France and Germany."
"That's a lot of schools," gasped Rory.
"My friends and I were sort of in a competition. Who could get kicked out of a school the fastest."
"Yeah. My father ended up getting quite annoyed and it was getting to the point where no one wanted me. Luckily Yale accepted me because of my father's influence and I actually ended up getting decent SAT scores."
"Oh my gosh we're at the end of the runway," gasped Rory, having looked out of the window.
"Relax. What's the worst that could happen?"
"Well the plane could crash and we all die," replied Rory.
"And how likely is that to happen, really?"
"I know all about the probabilities but it doesn't help me. I just hate the feeling of going fast down the runway and that awful moment when you've just lifted off and your stomach goes funny."
"Would it help if you squeezed my hand?" he asked.
"It's okay. I can just squeeze the arm rest," assured Rory, gripping tight.
"Well the offers there."
The plane started getting faster and faster, racing down the runway and the moment the wheels left the tarmac Rory grabbed her neighbour's hand.
"Everything's going to be okay," he assured her. Eventually the plane levelled off and once Rory was satisfied that the take off procedure was done, she let go of his hand.
"Sorry about that," she said sheepishly. "I usually just grip the arm seat."
"It's okay. I did offer after all."
"Well thanks," she replied.
"Are you going to be okay now?"
"Until we hit turbulence," she smiled.
"Right. So, do you want to keep on talking or do you have reading you want to get back to?" he asked her.
"Don't you have work to do?" she asked, looking at the folders.
"Not really," he shrugged. "I just brought it with me for something to do. Usually I get stuck with some old person in the next seat."
"I usually get a fat old guy," Rory laughed. "You make a nice change."
"Well I'm glad to be of service."
"I don't even know your name," Rory realised.
"I'm Rory," she replied.
"So, Rory, tell me more about your life," Logan said, turning in his seat slightly to face her and getting comfy.