Disclaimer: I don't own Gilmore Girls, because if I did I would have never had Tristan leave the show, and then Logan would have never come along (that would have been a shame); resulting in this story never being created. Also the stanza at the beginning of the story isn't mine either but belongs to one of my close friends Brian White.
Chapter 1
Cassius, Thoreau, and Holly Golightly
So hold your lips
Hold them close to mine
And whisper something soft
Whisper it right into mine
"And then Kirk came running into the diner, followed closely by Taylor who was rulebook ranting, you know when he goes into what rule you specifically broke, 'You broke rule 25 section 79 subsection 12 clause 5…' and it seems never-ending and you ask yourself how can there be so many rules…"
"Mmhmm,"
"Then Luke came up to Taylor and was like, 'What the hell Taylor, I told you last time I officially banned you from coming in here since you tried to convince me to paint the diner a pastel color, because you felt it would bring a more quaint feel to the town.' And Taylor was all like, 'Well I still stand by that, and if only you weren't so stubborn Luke…"
"Mmhmm,"
"You're not listening to me."
"Mmhmm,"
"AH HA!"
Rory stopped poring over her article, suddenly distracted by her mother, "Ah ha what mom?"
"Ah ha, you weren't listening to me. You were doing that thing where you say mmhmm every time I pause, to give the impression you were listening but in reality you weren't."
"Well Mom, I am kind of busy, this article is due on Doyle's desk by five o'clock today and I need to do some corrections on it. And, of course, I find Kirk's latest encounter with Taylor fascinating, but I really need to get this done," Rory ended with a sigh, "I need coffee."
"Fine, I got the message darling daughter of mine. You'd rather work on your article than speak to your poor lonely beautiful magnificent mother."
"You still need to work on your guilt trips; Grandma still has the best ability to make you feel guilty in zero to seventy at any given moment."
"Bah humbug to you!"
"Go annoy Michel, Scrooge, and I promise I will let you tell me the whole Kirk story tonight when I'm finally finished with this story. My caffeine buzz is about to let off and then I'll be officially screwed."
"Did I tell you what Michel did yesterday?"
"Mom."
"Fine I'll leave you to your article, but I'm going to remember this day when I write my will."
"Whatever, what are you going to do? Leave your entire life fortune to a parakeet named Guinea? Actually, don't answer that. Goodbye Mom," Rory hung up and set her cell beside the computer, throwing herself back into her article on the decision of certain prominent colleges to eliminate early admissions.
"It figures you'd be in the newsroom, might be one of the reasons why I came here first when I was looking for you," She tore herself from her story again only to find herself face-to-face with Logan Huntzberger.
When Rory had first met the heir to the Huntzberger fortune, she had been disgusted by his cocky attitude, infamous ego, and what she saw as a complete waste of a Yale education through means of partying and laziness. But as the year went on, and Logan spurred her into arguing with him, the original resentment that had fueled the debates slowly melted to a friendly banter. They were almost borderline friends.
A smirk graced her face, "Shocker! Logan Huntzberger has actually graced the Yale Daily News with his presence for the first time in what? Five months? Does Doyle realize you're here yet?"
Something akin to fear flashed across Logan's face, "My god no, and don't you dare alert him cause he's one of the biggest sycophants I know, and usually his psychotic girlfriend isn't too far behind nagging at me or throwing me death glares."
"I would like to remind you Huntzberger that his "psychotic girlfriend" is my roommate and one of my closest friends."
"Oh come on now, you know she drives you completely insane at times." Rory couldn't help but smile in response. He had a point; Paris could be one of the most infuriating people she had ever met.
"Fine agreed, but she was way worse in high school, especially when she hated me. Anyway what are you doing here? You haven't been sick lately so it can't be an article, and I know for a fact you're not here to see you beloved editor."
"You mean more like psychotic editor."
"I thought Paris was the psychotic one, makeup your mind already."
"They're both psychotic, I don't even want to imagine how their children are going to turn out. Oh god! Bad mental images!"
"Stop going off on a tangent Huntzberger, and answer the original question."
"Aw come on Ace, where would be the fun in that?" Catching the look she was throwing at him Logan continued with a sigh, "Fine, if you insist. I dared the dreaded newsroom to ask you if you wanted to go out to get some coffee with me."
"What's in it for me?"
A look of confusion passed over Logan's face, "What do you mean what's in it for you? First you get free coffee and I'll even let you get the most expensive coffee there…"
"How generous," Rory deadpanned.
"And second you get to spend time with me, Logan Huntzberger," He threw her one of his charming grins, his caramel eyes twinkling.
"And the saddest thing ladies and gentlemen, is that he actually believes his gigantic ego is a selling point in his favor."
"I prefer to look at it as confidence."
"So did Caesar, and look where he ended up."
"I don't remember anything saying Caesar thought of himself as confident."
"But he was egotistical."
"Wait! Are you going to be the Brutus to my Caesar."
"I was more aiming for Cassius. 'Beware of the ides of March.'"
"Ouch, must make a mental note to be wary of you in the future, or any soothsayers for that matter. So anyway what do you say about coffee?"
"I just told you basically that I want to manipulate your closest friend to turn on you and bring about your downfall, and you still invite me out? What are you, suicidal?"
"Yes, well you see Ace, I live by a certain motto."
"Oh really, and what might this motto be?"
"Keep your friends close and your enemies closer, so how bout it? I know your craving coffee, you always are."
Rory threw a glance at her computer, making a mental pros and cons list in her head. Her final result shocked her slightly. Logan. She remembered a time when a Multinational Corporate Management final would have been more tempting than spending time with one Logan Huntzberger. But now… she couldn't resist the urge of that cocky smirk and twinkle in his eyes. To hell with the article, it was pretty much done, and it was Doyle's job as editor to edit it anyway.
"Fine, but I'm holding you up to your earlier statement about buying me the most expensive coffee there," His smirk transformed into a boyish grin and she couldn't help but grin back as she closed her computer after printing out her article.
As they walked out of the newsroom Logan threw his arm around her shoulder and pulled her in, "I knew you couldn't resist my charm."
Rory gave a muffled laugh and slightly pushed him, "Or maybe I'm trying to learn your weakness so usurping you from your pedestal will be easier."
"Oh is that so?" Rory nodded her head a beautiful smile graced her features. 'If only she knew, she was my weakness' Logan thought to himself as he and his Ace walked across the Yale campus, his arm thrown over her shoulder.
An hour later found Rory sitting across Logan in a small café in New Haven, drinking an amazing espresso with extra whipped cream and caramel, talking as if they had been friends for years.
Something Rory noticed about Logan and her was there was never a lack of conversation, unlike when she had been dating Dean, their dates had tended to be plagued with awkward silences, but with Logan she could discuss anything from the imbalance of political ideologies in the European Union to whether or not Gone with the Wind was actually a good movie.
"I can not stand Thoreau." Logan bluntly stated his opinion, as always, for he never saw a reason for being equivocal.
"How could you have never been touched by Walden's Pond? It's a masterpiece in poetry, it reflects the beauty of nature, and Thoreau stood up for what he believed in."
"Well first I don't like scenic poetry, Robert Frost and Henry David Thoreau bore me, and second Thoreau was a complete nut. He hated industry and modernization and decided to escape society by living alone in a little wooden shack he built on Ralph Waldo Emerson's land with only his poetry to keep him company."
"He was also a participant in the abolition movement, and his writings were used by Gandhi in later years."
"A.K.A. he was a hippy in the antebellum years."
Rory rolled her eyes, "Obviously this conversation is going nowhere, so I'm going to subtly change the subject. So then what's your favorite type of poetry if the ethereal beauty of the natural world doesn't move you?"
"Poe." Logan stated simply without even thinking over his answer, "And I must say I'm partial to Shakespeare and Tennyson."
"I'm surprised; you never seemed like someone who would love the morbid, macabre style of Poe."
"Oh believe me, I don't enjoy his poems because of what they express, I like them because of Poe's ability to manipulate the words in them."
Rory thought over his statement, "Interesting, care to expand?"
"Ace, you sounded so much like a reporter just then; I think you have found your calling in life."
She laughed at his comment and took another sip of her coffee, only for a frown to mar her face, "It's all gone." Logan flagged down a waitress and asked for another cup for Rory and a blueberry muffin for himself.
"To answer your earlier question, it's that Poe was such an amazing wordsmith. Read The Raven out loud without actually comprehending the words, just listen, and the words flow so smoothly from the text, like silk, the rhyming seems almost effortless for Poe. That's why I love his poetry. Ok, fine, The Raven is about some schizophrenic man who keeps on seeing visions of a raven and hearing voices in his head, but the words manipulated to create the story transcends to basic plot."
"Wow that was deep Huntzberger. I'm impressed." Logan laughed at her comment and she felt almost breathless when he gave her a lopsided grin. "So is that why you like Shakespeare and Tennyson too?" Rory asked, attempting to mental shove her mind in the safer direction of literature rather than Logan's smirk.
"Shakespeare, yes, Tennyson, no. I just liked The Lady of Shalott and so I read more of his work and liked it."
Suddenly their conversation was cut short by the ringing of Logan's cell; Rory couldn't help but raise an eyebrow as YMCA blared from his cell phone.
"What?" Logan laughed at her expression, "It's Finn's personal ring tone."
"The Village People?"
"It involves a drunken night during one of Finn's cross-dressing phases."
"Now I don't want to know."
"Good choice. Hold on a second, it might be an emergency, with Finn you never know," Logan flipped open his phone and started talking to Finn. Rory leaned back in her chair and watched as Logan laughed at something Finn had obviously said. She noticed how when Logan smiled a dimple would appear, adding to his boyish charm.
"I'm at a café with Ace. Fine. Hold on." Logan placed his hand over the mouthpiece as he looked up at Rory. "Finn wants to talk to you."
Slightly surprised Rory nodded and took the cell phone, "Hello?" She tentatively greeted.
"Love! I'm in desperate need of your assistance," Finn greeted in his exotic Australian voice.
"Is that so?" Rory answered amused at Finn's melodramatic ways.
"Yes! You must help me convince our mate Logan to come to my smashing party I'm holding tonight. He's being a stubborn arse and this is going to be an amazing party. And of course I must insist that you come along as well."
"Oh really now? And what may I ask, are we celebrating?"
"My half birthday," Finn exclaimed in mock indignation, "I can't believe you forgot my half birthday love. I'm crushed."
"I'll make it up to you, promise."
"Good to hear. So will you help me?"
Rory covered the mouthpiece, and looked up at Logan, "Okay so I could either use logos, ethos or pathos to convince you, but I don't really want to show off my skills at debating right now; so is there any chance if I straight up ask you to go, that you will?"
"If you go with me I would strongly consider the possibility of going, and for future reference, logos works best on me."
Rory turned back to the phone, "He'll be there Finn."
"You're a goddess Love; someone should build a shrine to you."
Rory let out a melodious laugh, "Why don't you get started on that, so I can go and get ready for your party."
"Alright, I'm thinking I'll go with a Grecian temple with the Corinthian pillars and maybe a big statue in the middle. Oh by the way before you leave, the theme is 60s this year, so go all out with your costume."
"Will do Finn, see you later and Happy Half Birthday." She hung up the phone and handed it back to Logan.
"So what decade are we celebrating this year?"
"The swinging sixties, how did you know that the theme would be a decade?"
"For Finn's half birthday he always has a decade be a theme. Last year it was the 20s, the year before it was the 80s," Logan glanced down at his watch, "I'll drop you off at your dorm now and pick you up at 9:30, if that's good for you."
"Who are you going to dress up like?"
"That Ace is a surprise."'
Rory was digging through her closest when her cell phone started ringing in the common room.
"Paris will you answer that for me?" Rory called out as she studied a black cocktail dress.
"What do I look like? Your personal assistant? I'm busy at this specific moment…"
"Never mind I'll get it myself," Rory walked into the common room and picked up her cell, "Hello?"
"Hello, Ms. Gilmore this is Jane from Plan Parenthood, we got the results to your pregnancy test that you took yesterday, and they came out positive."
"Hi Mom," Rory started heading back to her closest.
"Hi Hun, so any wild plans for this weekend, that I would be proud of?"
"Actually, I'm going to Finn's half birthday party tonight with Logan. I was just going through my closest trying to decide who I should dress up like."
Lorelai squealed, "What's the theme, maybe I can help. I can't believe you didn't call earlier, I'm the master of coming up with costumes for themed parties."
"The 60s."
"Well Celine always said I looked exactly like Natalie Wood, who was big in the 60s. So that's one option. Or if you want to be more continental you could dress up like Brigitte Bardot, although I think she was a blonde and was topless most of the time."
"I was thinking Holly Golightly from Breakfast at Tiffany's."
"Owh! Audrey Hepburn is perfect for you."
"And it's a rather simple costume."
"So who is Logan going as?"
"No idea, he was being all enigmatic when I asked."
"Hey, I'd love to stay and gossip, but I got to go, I promised Sookie I'd baby-sit Davie and Martha tonight. Now remember; drink a lot and then pick up a really hot guy and…"
"Alright… I got the point, no need to finish that thought."
"Aw, all I was going to say was paint ceramic cats together."
"Paint ceramic cats? Is that what kids are calling it these days."
"Geez Rory, you're perverted. How could you take painting ceramic cats together and turn that into something dirty."
"What can I say; I am your daughter after all."
"You have a point. Well anyway have a lot of fun tonight Holly, be sure to steal some Halloween masks with George Peppard for me."
"No problem, love you Mom."
"Love you back." Rory set the phone on her side table as she leaned back into her bed. Staring up at the ceiling, she began contemplating her situation with Logan as her Alexi Murdoch CD played. She let the acoustic guitar in Orange Sky calm her confused thoughts.
Suddenly her eyes snapped opened as her bedroom door was banged open, "Do you have a sharpie?" Paris snapped from the doorway. "What were you doing? Trying to take a nap? How many times have I told you naps are detrimental to your health since they screw up your sleep cycles."
Sitting up, Rory tried not to roll her eyes at her domineering roommate, "I wasn't trying to take a nap Paris. I was just trying to think about tonight and my situation with Logan."
Paris briskly walked over the Rory's bed and awkwardly sat down upon the edge, "Ok, this is me being supportive," she took in a big breath of air, "Alright, so, Logan. He's an arrogant little rich boy, who hasn't grown up yet."
Rory sent her an incredulous look, "Wow… that's was supportive right there."
"Okay, okay, sorry. Is tonight a date?"
"I don't know, probably not," Rory started picking at her comforter.
Paris nodded, "And how does that make you feel?"
"Alright, that was too supportive. You sounded like a shrink."
Paris rolled her eyes, "Okay, I'll ask the most pressing question and get straight to the point. How do you feel about Logan?"
"It's complicated. I've told you before that he isn't the boyfriend type of guy, and I'm not his type. He goes for the drop dead gorgeous models or society girls, and I'm just the girl from the paper who's always studying and has an unhealthy obsession for coffee. I can't like him as more than just a friend, because I know it'd end badly. He'd break my heart unknowingly, and I can't allow that."
Paris frowned, "If you want to continue believing that you have an actual say in who you start liking, go for it. Ignorance is bliss."
"Are you saying I'm naïve?"
"No, I'm saying I think you're in denial. But hey Freud did say denial was a natural defense mechanism, so if you subconsciously believe that's the best road to take, then go for it."
"I'm so not in denial," Rory muttered underneath her voice.
"Famous last words, come on Gilmore it's plainly obvious you like the guy. Otherwise you wouldn't have been lying on your bed looking pensive, pondering about your relationship with him. Save it. It's obvious to everyone who would take a second to look."
"I thought you said you'd be supportive."
"Well I tried. But really get off your ass and get ready for that guy's party otherwise Logan will be coming here and you won't be ready, meaning he'll sit next to me in the common room, while I'm trying to watch C-SPAN, and he'll try to engage in small chit-chat with me as he waits for you to get ready. And then I will shoot myself in the head because I really don't like the rich, spoiled, lazy son of a bitch."
"God Paris, tell us how you really feel." Watching as Paris rolled her eyes and stormed out of her room, Rory turned to her closest and started flipping through her dresses looking for the perfect one.
"I won't let it happen," she whispered underneath her breath as she started getting ready.
a/n: So I had this story all perfectly planned out, but then I started writing it. It was going to be a simple three chapter story, but it's turning into something bigger. shrug I had also decided to write the entire thing before posting it... yeah that didn't happen. So expect sporadic updates. Also the actually fortune cookie will come in later in the story. I'm also dreadfully sorry if my grammar is atrocious, which would not come as a surprise to me. I haven't gone out and found a beta yet. And reviews are always appreciated.