Disclaimer: I own nothing.

---Gilmore Girls---

Chapter Seven: Kit Kat Bars

---Gilmore Girls---

It seemed like an eternity as Rory sat on the sofa, her eyes scanning over ever grain of wood of on the backside of her dormitory door; every grain taking seconds to trace, and follow before it branched off into another, or just stopped in its entirety. In reality, it took Rory Gilmore all of three minutes to memorize her door as she waited for her rekindled flame to knock upon it.

And when it came, it couldn't of been welcomer if Christine Amanpour was on the other side.

Bounding to her feet, a firm smile on her face, she opened the door to reveal Logan on the other side, "Hey," she breathed.

"Out of breath, there Ace?" he said, kissing her in greeting.

"I have no idea what you're talking about," she said indignantly, pulling on the handle of the smaller of her suitcases, "So where are we going?"

"Ah, ah, ah, Ace," he smirked, taking a piece of black, layered silk, "That'd just ruin the surprise, now wouldn't it?"

Rory sighed, turning around so her back was facing Logan, "If you must," she frowned. Logan tied the blindfold over her eyes with a secure knot at the back of her head.

Taking her suitcases in his hand, the other on the small of her back to guide her, Logan kissed her cheek affectionately, "You ready, Ace?"

"Coffee?"

"In the car," he answered her, locking the back of her dorm door as they made their way out, closing it behind them.

"Oh how well you know me, Mac."

"I'm beside myself with pride," he chided as he led her across the courtyard, and towards the awaiting SUV.

The car smelt of alcohol and air fresheners, and Rory laughed. Leave it to Finn to leave alcohol bottles strewn about in his car. Logan guided her into the far back row of seats in the SUV, and buckled her seatbelt before residing in the seat just next to her.

"Why is everyone so quiet?" she whispered to Logan, as his hand found hers.

"Because we're the only ones here, Ace," he whispered back to her, "Everyone is due to arrive in—" he glanced down at his watch, "A minute and a half."

"And just how will we spend that minute and a half, dear Mr. Huntzberger?"

"I have a few ideas," he whispered into her ear before pressing his lips to her neck.

Rory turned her head to the side, and caught his lips off guard with her own. Pecking at them affectionately, she placed her hand on Logan's chin, allowing him to take the reigns of their kiss.

Logan smiled against her mouth, before pulling away and brushing his lips against her cheek, "I've missed you, Ace."

"I've missed you too," Rory concurred, running her fingers over the black fabric of the blindfold. "So, where's my coffee?"

Rory listened as Logan shifted around the backseat, before she felt no movement at all. She sat there for a few seconds, listening intently to any sounds that were within six feet of her. The seat shifted again, and Rory supposed it was under Logan's weight. Being greeted with the aroma of coffee, Rory grinned, and hastily reached her hand out.

"What if this wasn't for you, Reporter Girl?" came the voice of Colin, "What if I had developed a strong love for this beverage because alcohol just didn't do it for me anymore?"

"You see these boots, Colin?"

"Uh huh."

"They'd be kicking your ass."

"Ah, feisty this evening—I dare say I like it." He leered, placing the to-go cup of coffee in her alabaster hand.

"Where'd your leader go?" she asked, her lips against the plastic of the cover as she did so.

"I believe he went to go make sure everyone else was at their sanctioned places so we could prepare for take off," Colin deadpanned, moving out of the backseat, "Just be prepared for the jolt."

---the Inc.---

"Finally," Rory cried as Logan pulled the blindfold off from over her eyes, shoving it into his pocket. "So, where are we?"

"Still in the U.S." he answered, throwing his arm around her shoulders, and guiding her down a pathway.

"Where'd everyone go?"

"Their separate ways, Ace. Don't worry about it—we'll catch up with them later." He told her, pressing his lips to her cheek, "But right now, I want to catch up with you."

"And what does catching up entail?" she asked, leaning into his frame. She glanced up at him, before looking at the path that was splayed out in front of her.

"A lot of this," he stopped, and turned towards her, pressing his lips gently to hers.

Allowing her features she scrunch up in an unattractive look, Rory gently pushed Logan away from her tiny frame. She gave him a withering look and crossed her arms over her chest, "I'd prefer it if we just talked, Logan."

Nodding his head, Logan draped his arm around her shoulders, affectionately pulling her closer to him, "So how's life been treating you?"

"Good… it's been good. You?"

"Same old, same old."

"Could you should me to where we're staying? I'm kind of tired, and I'd like to take a nap."

Giving her a frustrated look, Logan nodded, "Sure, Ace."

---the Inc.---

Throwing the door to Cheyenne's suite open, Tristan tossed his jacket onto the floor and kicked the door closed behind him. "Cheyenne," he called through the spicy abode his friend called home, allowing his feet to guide him towards the small refrigerator the kitchenette provided for him. "Cheyenne!"

Pulling jeans over his leg and bottom, Cheyenne buttoned the copper button and followed Tristan's voice towards the kitchenette, an irritated smile placated on his lips, "Tristan, my friend, what can I help you with? I was kind of busy."

"Alexander?"

"Nah, Federico," Cheyenne said coolly, leaning against his counter lazily.

"She's back with that jackass," Tristan said, using the pad of his thumb to pop open a bottle of Honey Brown, "I went to see her earlier to see if she wanted to hang out—and her bags were packed. I'm an idiot to actually think that she wouldn't go back to him. The same fuckin' thing happened with Bagboy and I feel like I'm stuck in some horrible teenage soap opera all over again."

"Rory is back with Logan?" Chey rubbed his hand over his forehead, and cursed under his breath, "She should know better by now, darling."

"Well evidently she doesn't because she's off gallivanting with lover boy while I'm stuck here sulking over her. Again. My head should not be focused on Rory fuckin' Gilmore—my head should be focused on school and the soccer team—Jesus Christ, Chey, why the hell can't I just get the girl for once? Is there some rule book that says Tristan can't ever have the girl?"

"Cheyenne?"

"I'll be there in one second, cutie!" Cheyenne called over his shoulder before turning his full attention back to Tristan, "Look, when Rory gets home I'll talk to her. We had a conversation earlier this morning about her still being in love with him—"

"Really? Because she didn't toss that in my face or anything this afternoon," he scoffed, taking a deep swig of his beverage.

"I'm honestly sor—"

"Cheyenne," Federico interrupted mid-Cheyenne's-sentence, "I'm going to head off."

"Darling! No, I'm sorry, it's just my friend here is having some girl trouble—I'll be done in a second."

"Nah," Federico smiled, "I have to finish up a Political Science essay. Just give me a call when your free." He kissed Cheyenne on the corner of the mouth and gave a half-hearted smile to Tristan as he made his way out of the dorm room.

"Sorry," Tristan grimaced, rubbing his forehead with his free hand, "I should have just cooled off myself."

"Don't worry about it, buddy," Cheyenne said, throwing his arm over Tristan's shoulder and leading him towards the couch, "Now what is it that you straight boys do when you hang out? Watch sports?"

"Uh, yeah."

"Great! I'm up for some baseball—man, if only I could play with one of those boys. Have you seen the tightness of their pants? Mmm, mmm, mmm! You can break me off a piece of those Kit Kat bars any day!"