A/N: I really hated the way Logan and Rory ended. I really did. I think out of all of them, Logan somehow ended up the perfect guy for her. In some ways he was the complete opposite of her, in others he was her equal. Perfect guy. I want one!
My first Gilmore Girls story. Be kind. PLEASE REVIEW!
Disclaimer: I don't own Gilmore Girls or Alexis Bledel or Matt Czuchry (watch him in The Good Wife. He's mad good.)
In this story, Chris and Lorelai got married when Rory was four. April is not Luke's daughter, she is Chris and Lorelai's. Gigi is not Sherry's daughter, she is Lorelai's. Will is their youngest child, their son.
"We have to have a movie night," Paris announced to Rory. "It'll be the perfect stress reliever."
"Who's stressed? Are you stressed, Paris? 'Cause I'm not stressed. I mean, yeah my parents are having a gigantic re-wedding renewal vow thing for my grandma even though they've been married for like 10 years and I have to plan it, a whole wedding, plus I'm probably going to be named the Hayden and Gilmore heiress on my twenty-first birthday, which means I'm going to inherit two companies I have no idea how to run and-" Rory rambled.
"Sooo, Christmas movies?" Paris cut her off.
"Christmas movies," Rory agreed.
"Oh, and hey, don't worry about the handling of the companies. Your husband can handle that. Although, he may come with a company of his own, so I dunno how much of a help that'll be," Paris said thoughtfully.
"Wait, husband what? No! Paris, it may have escaped your notice, but I am in fact, not married. Nor do I have a boyfriend," Rory pointed out.
"Not if your family has anything to do with it. Your grandmother called."
Rory checked the answering machine, and sure enough, there was a red light. Sighing, she played the messages.
"Hello Rory, it's your grandmother, Emily. I know that tomorrow isn't Friday, but I have organized a dinner event, and I'd like you to come, there's someone special I'd like you to meet. I have a feeling you'd like him. Bring your mother. Goodbye."
She pressed the delete button on the answering machine, and the red light disappeared. Gone. It was gone. Now she could pretend she had never gotten the voicemail and she wouldn't have to go.
Of course. You keep living under that rock, Hayden, she thought to herself.
"Wow. I was right. Imagine that. You gonna go?" Paris asked, gesturing to the phone.
"What? Paris no, of course not. I mean, I like my grandparents well enough but I'm not sitting through another stuffy dinner thing. Friday nights are enough."
"Friday nights don't count," Paris disagreed. "Your mother gets in a fight with her mother, your grandpa retreats into his study with your dad, and you and your sisters watch TV and Will colors all over the table. Tomorrow's not going to be anything like that."
"That hasn't happened since I was in Chilton."
"Either way, it's not going to be like tomorrow."
"How do you know what tomorrow's going to be like?"
"Because I've already had the so-called 'dinner event'" Paris explained. "Most likely they've picked out someone for you to marry." At Rory's incredulous expression, she added, "That's who the 'special someone' is. You might want to call your mom. Rant. Wallow. You know that thing you guys do. See if you can find out who your future husband is."
"Yeah. I think I will." Rory nodded. "But we're still doing movie night!" She picked up her phone and dialed, resting the phone in the crook of her neck. "And he's not my future husband!"
"Sure, let me just e-mail Doyle the final copy of my article. And then I can find a shovel so I can dig you out from under that rock.
"Paris," Rory checked her watch in disbelief. "It's 11:30. And I am not living under a rock."
"You're calling your mom, I'm e-mailing my boyfriend." Paris shrugged. "At least I'm practical. Gilmore."
"Yeah, about that. I'm a Hayden."
Paris shrugged again, then retreated to her room. "Let me know when you're done, Hayden."
"Fruit of my loins!" Lorelai picked up.
"I have bad news," Rory greeted.
"Oh, me too."
"I think I know what yours is."
"Does it involve a dinner event tomorrow at the stuffy Gilmore household where there will be guests and therefore the traditional Gilmore-Hayden Friday Night Dinner will not only NOT occur, but you will be introduced a potential husband?" Lorelai asked.
"Yep, that's it," Rory said gloomily. "Paris told me."
"No one told me! Well, my mother did, when she called me five minutes ago saying that Christopher and I had to come, and then...Wait, back up. Paris told you?" Lorelai asked incredulously. "Rory, how did she know?"
"Well, such is the way of the Hartford elite. Apparently, she had one, too."
"Oh, what a sad, sad world we live in," Lorelai quipped. "Boys are set up with Paris, too."
"Not funny! It's sad. I mean, Grandma doesn't even know what type of guy I like. What if we end up like Sid and Nancy?"
"To be fair, sweets, you don't even know what kind of guy you like. I mean, there was Dean, and Jess, and Tristan DuGray..."
"Yeah, okay, I get it. But I don't want to be having this conversation without coffee. It makes my head hurt."
"I get what you're feeling, babe. Hey, maybe Grandma picked out a nice guy for you. One you won't want to kill, and vice versa. Then you won't have to worry about whether you're Sid or you're Nancy."
"Or," Rory emphasized. "She could be throwing a party for you and Dad."
"Right, silly me, what with us getting our vows renewed and all. I'm sure in Emily Gilmore-land, that that constitutes as a 'small dinner event', not 'full-blown gala'."
"I'm grasping at straws, aren't I?"
"Yeah, sweets. Sorry. I'm sorry about my mother."
"I know, Mom. I'm sorry about her, too."
"So tell me about Grandma calling you at 11:30 in the night," Rory changed the subject.
"Ah, change of subject. At this rate, you'll soon be ready for the art of subterfuge."
"Big words, Mom. Big words."
"Well, you know me, sweets. I dive into the dictionary every day."
"Be careful, you don't know how to swim."
"Rory! I'm insulted. Who do you think taught you how to swim?"
"Oh. Yeah, he did, huh."
Rory heard her father mumbling something in the background, and then Lorelai saying she had to go.
"Okay. Love you, Mom. Bye."
"Bye sweets. See you at dinner tomorrow night."
"I'll be there," Rory agreed.
Lorelai hung up, and Rory sighed. "I need a wallow."
"Paris!" she called. "We're doing some serious wallowing."
Paris came out of her room, phone nestled in the crook of her neck. "Okay, Doyle. You got it? Great, yeah. Goodnight."
"I miss Jamie," Rory commented.
Paris narrowed her eyes.
"For you," Rory added. "I miss Jamie for you."
"Whatever, Gilmore, Let's just start this wallow."
When Rory and Paris walked into the Yale Daily News office to turn in Rory's article before going to Hartford the next day, for the doomed dinner party, they found Doyle arguing with a blond man.
"Who is that?" Rory whispered to Paris.
"I dunno, but he better not have his eye on the editor-in-chief." Paris narrowed her eyes. "It's mine."
"You mean Doyle or the position?"
Paris looked at her quizzically, as if to say 'are you really asking me that?'
"Right. Of course. I should have known. But come one, you have to learn that not everyone is her for the editor-in-chief spot. Loosen up a bit."
"It's a dog eat dog world, Rory. Survival of the fittest. The best man gets the job, and I will be the woman to do so."
"What? Paris, that makes no sense," Rory said. "Look. I just need to put this on Doyle's desk and then we'll go."
"Rory!" Doyle called. "Someone I want you to meet."
Rory frowned. Doyle was glaring at the boy in front of him, and that didn't bode well- for her OR the blond.
"Go," Paris nudged Rory forward a few steps. "He's not going to bite. Well, he's not going to bite you at least."
"Patience is a virtue, Rory. A virtue that, frankly, I don't have." Paris replied.
"Boy, are you full of proverbs today."
"Yeah. It's strangely enlightening. I should impart wisdom more often."
"By all means."
"Rory! We're not getting any younger here," Doyle yelled.
"Right, sorry," she said as she walked over. "Here's my article Doyle. Sorry, I know I should have had it in last night, but work and my grandma and my mom and stuff and you know how it is."
Doyle just looked at her, his expression flat. "No, Rory. I don't know how it is," he said. "Unfortunately for you. Anyways, forget about that, just don't do it again." he dismissed. "Logan, this is Rory."
Rory stared at him in disbelief. Did Doyle really just say to forget about it? She shrugged. If he didn't have a problem with it, she wasn't going to create one.
"This is Logan Huntzberger," Doyle introduced the blond. Logan stuck his hand out to Rory, who eyed it as if it contained the plague.
Logan smirked, "I don't bite, Ace."
"Ace?" Rory raised an eyebrow. "I just met you. Literally, just met you, and you already have a nickname for me?"
"Yeah. Doyle here was just telling me what an ace reporter you are. Compared to me, someone who's contributed four, maybe five articles in my entire two years here." Logan looked to Doyle, as if looking for confirmation. Doyle nodded and smiled in, what he thought was, a humorous smile. In reality, it made him look constipated.
"Entire two years..." Rory repeated. "But I've never seen you here."
"Yeah, I tend to not be around much," Logan laughed. "It's a habit. I don't stick to things."
"You!" Rory cried in recognition.
"Me!" Logan exclaimed confusedly.
"I know you!"
"You...do?" he asked.
"Yes you! You're Invisible Bob!" she shouted, pointing her finger into his chest. "The person who gets credit for being on this newspaper for God knows what reason, when you haven't published anything in the past two years, and you should be here, working...hard, like the rest of us. It's unfair. You're Invisible Bob."
"Invisible Bob," Logan said incredulously. "Seriously, Ace. Invisible Bob."
"Well, if you're not going to come into the newspaper and actually submit articles, then you don't deserve a name better than Bob," Rory stated defiantly. "Deal with it."
She turned to Doyle. "Here's my article," she said, slamming it into his chest. "I have to go. I have dinner with my grandparents. Goodbye, Doyle."
Without so much as a glance at Logan, she grabbed Paris and started walking to the door.
"Hey, Ace," Logan called after her. "Master and Commander."
"What?" Rory turned exasperatedly. "What about the movie?"
"Not the movie, that's what I want you to call me from now on," he smirked. She narrowed her eyes, opened her mouth to say something, then changed her mind and walked out the door. Paris, whose head had been going back and forth the whole time, turned to Logan.
"For the record, Huntzberger, Editor-In-Chief is mine," she said. "And if you try to take it from me, bad things will happen to you."
Logan cowered a bit, even though Paris was across the room.
"Yeah, that's what I thought. Be scared, Huntz. Be scared." And then she, too, walked out of the room.
"So," Logan turned back to Doyle slowly. "Any other extremely talented reporters you want me to meet?"
"No. I think my girlfriend and her roommate are enough for one day." Doyle said. "But since you're here, get back to work."
"Wait, Rory's your girlfriend?" This blew his mind. What was a girl like Rory doing with a boy like Doyle?
"No, of course not. Like I would ever go for Rory." Yeah, 'cause that made sense. Doyle rejecting Rory. "Paris is my girlfriend," he continued. Doyle turned to look at Logan suspiciously. "Wait, why do you want to know?"
"Nothing, nothing, don't worry about it. She's not my type," Logan covered. "So, it was nice meeting you Doyle. I have to go."
"Wait, what? Logan! You just got here."
"And it's five o'clock. Which means if I want to be in Hartford by six, I should probably leave now. Nice seeing you again, Boyle," Logan said, walking away.
"It's Doyle!" Doyle called after him.
"That's what I said," Logan said with a shake of his head.
"I can't believe we're still out here," Rory stated.
"I'm really, really cold," Chris said.
"Let's go home," Lorelai said, quickly turning around.
"Not so fast, Lor," Chris said, grabbing her arm and steering her back to her original position. "We have to go in there at some point."
The three of them were standing on the porch of Richard and Emily Gilmore's Hartford home, where they had been for the past twenty minutes since Rory's arrival. For the fifteen minutes before Rory's arrival, Chris and Lorelai had played the Alphabet Game sitting in the warmth of their car. They'd been using the excuse that they were waiting for Rory. Now, however, they had no excuse, and they were sure to be discovered soon. Self-preservation said that it would be less explosive if they entered the Gilmore House of Doom willingly, but neither of the three was ready to go in yet, frostbite or no.
"No, Chris we don't. Don't you see? This is just another excuse for our mother to ruin our daughter's life. What if we go in there and meet this guy and he and Rory get married and then they turn into Ozzy and Sharon Osborne? What then, Chris? What then?" Lorelai cried dramatically.
Chris stared at her. "Lorelai, don't you think you're being a little too dramatic? I mean, Emily set us up. Technically. And we turned out, okay. More than okay, actually," he grinned.
Lorelai smiled softly, "Yeah, we did, didn't we."
"Oh, gross. My parents are having a moment right in front of me," Rory covered her eyes. "Do you have to do that?"
"Hey, kid, we're your parents. It's our job to embarrass you." Chris wrapped his arm around his wife's waist.
"And I'd say we do it pretty darn well," she leaned into Chris. "Don't we?"
"Yeah. Back to going in there," Chris pointed at the door. "We're going to have to go in there sooner or later."
"I pick the later," Rory said firmly. "I like life as a single woman, thank you."
"Married life is not that bad!" Lorelai defended.
"That bad?" Chris raised an eyebrow. He turned to his daughter. "Besides, Gigi's in there. And Will."
"I don't see that being incentive for you to ring the doorbell, Christopher. What's your point here?"
Chris though about it for a second, and decided he really didn't have a point. "You're right," he agreed. "No incentive." While Emily Gilmore was considered the Wicked Witch of the West to most of the older members of the Hayden family (save Straub and Francine), she was as kind and loving to the youngest two members. Will and Gigi were, for the moment, safe.
"Wait," Rory's eyes widened in realization. "April's in there! And you know how Grandma's been wanting to fix her up for her debutante ball."
Chris let out a slow breath. "Well, it's now or never, people." Before either of the two Lorelais could stop him, he stepped forward and stuck his thumb out and pressed the doorbell firmly, as if he was giving his thumb print for entrance into top-secret CIA headquarters or something.
"Chris! No! Why'd you do that?" Lorelai cried.
"We needed to stop stalling," he answered firmly. "We are doing this for the children, Lorelai. For the children."
"Did he just-" Rory turned to her mother.
"I can't believe he did that."
"I can't either," Lorelai admitted.
"He rang the doorbell willingly, he said we should stop stalling, what's he going to do next? Insult coffee?" Rory asked in disbelief.
"Speaking of, I could really use some right now."
"Me too, Mom. Me too."
"Join the club, Lorelai," Chris said.
"Please, Chris," she scoffed. "I founded the club."
"And I'm Vice-President, Dad." Rory added. "Sorry, I'd offer you a position, but April, Paris, and Sookie already took 'em."
Chris looked at them surprised. He hadn't realized they were being serious. Of course, he was talking to the Gilmore girls, so he didn't know why he was surprised.
The door opened, Emily Gilmore standing directly in front of them. Lorelai froze; Rory's eyes widened, and her eyebrows were raised high into her forehead; Chris was the only one who was able to mask his surprise quickly enough.
"Ah, Emily, good to see you," he leaned in for a hug and quick kiss on the cheek, then stepped inside.
"You as well, Christopher," Emily greeted. "Well, come in, you two. We don't have all day. As it is, you are very late," she said to her daughter and granddaughter. "This does not a wonderful first impression make, Rory."
"Sorry, Grandma. I got stuck at Yale. Paris had an emergency." Rory apologized.
"Well, don't let it happen again. Our guests have waited a while for you, and you're lucky that our guest of honor didn't complain. Though, that's all the better for you, my love." She gave a conspiratorial smile, then turned to Lorelai. "And what's your excuse, missy? Why are your children here before you?"
"I had stuff at the Inn, and Chris was held up at the office, and April was all too eager to help," Lorelai explained.
"She just got her license a few weeks ago, and she's wanted to drive her new car around everywhere." Chris jumped in. "And we thought it'd be better for the kids to come here earlier rather than an empty house."
"Oh," Emily smiled. "Well, we're always happy to have them. Now, Christopher, the men are all in Richard's study. Normally, you'd know where that was, but since you've both been so busy, you haven't visited us in almost five months! Come, I'll take you. Did you know we got the renovations finished last month? Richard moved his study into a completely new room. It's much larger now, you know. Very comfy. Very stylish, too," Emily Gilmore's voice faded as she led her son-in-law down the hallway. Chris looked over his shoulder, shrugging helplessly.
"Guests?" Lorelai turned to Rory. "As in, more than one?"
"Guests of HONOR?"
"She answered the door!"
"I know. She never answers the door."
"Did you see that smile? She is clearly hiding something."
"I know, it creeped me out," Rory agreed.
"And the 'all the better for you, my love.' It sounded like it was from Little Red Riding Hood."
"I wasn't even aware that Grandma knew Little Red Riding Hood. I don't believe this. My whole life is a lie."
"Oh, come on, kid. Who do you think the wolf was based on?"
"Based on what, Lorelai?" Emily asked as she walked toward them. "Never mind. I don't think I want to know the answer to that."
"Well, Mom," Lorelai started.
"No, Lorelai. I really don't want to know what goes through that inane head of yours."
"Mom!" Lorelai was scandalized. "My head is not inane."
"If you say so, Lorelai," Emily dismissed the topic with a wave of her hand. "Anyways, follow me. I don't understand why you're still here."
Rory pushed her mother in front of her as they started walking toward the formal dining room, using her as a shield for whatever was to come.
"Wait, what does she mean 'I don't understand why you're still here'? Does she want us to leave? Because I will do that. Gladly."
"Remember the children, Rory," her mother whispered back. "Remember Will and Gigi and April."
Lorelai followed Emily into the room, and sat down next to April, who immediately leaned over and started whispering rapidly into her mother's ear. Gigi ran to Emily, who picked her up and walked over to another woman Emily's age. The two of them started gushing at Gigi in a tone that made Rory faintly disgusted. Then, her attention landed on Will.
More importantly, on the tall, blond man who was swinging Will around. He turned around, grinning, holding a smiling Will in his arms.
"Me," he played along grinning.
"I know you!" she cried desperately.
"You know, Ace. I could have sworn we've already had this conversation today."
"Oh. Well then you two already know each other! That's so wonderful," the woman holding Gigi said.
"Where are my manners?" Emily said. "Rory, this is Shira Huntzberger, and that's her son Logan."
"Pleased to meet you, Mrs. Huntzberger," she bowed her head. Then she turned to Logan. "We've met," she said shortly. "And I was hoping that-"
"Well, that's great," Lorelai said. She could feel Rory's glare from across the room. And it wasn't even directed at her. "Mom, Shira, what exactly are we here for tonight?"
"What a wonderful question, Lorelai," Shira said. "As I'm sure you know by now, Logan and Rory are to be engaged soon. Tonight is just to 'hammer out the details', as Mitchum says."
Rory froze. Engaged?
She was going to need a lot of coffee.
I hoped you guys liked it! Please review and let me know what you think. I have a lot of ideas for this story, but nothing's set in stone, so I'm all for ideas from you guys, too.
It's going to be a series, and I already have the basic plots planned out. One for each of the kids, Rory, April, Gigi, and Will. In that order.
REVIEW! Flames accepted.