Logan Huntzberger had the perfect life until his fiancée walked out on him. When she suddenly reenters his life again, Logan and his best friend, Rory, come up with a brilliant plan. But, when the plan works better than they ever could imagine, it could mean more than they all bargained for.

It wasn't the best idea Logan Huntzberger had ever come up with, but he was desperate. It had been four months since 'the break-up', and although he was still sure his heart would never recover, if he didn't find a roommate soon, his heart wouldn't be the only thing out on the street.

"Hello, you," Rory Gilmore said, throwing an arm around his shoulder and digging her chin into it as he stood next to the company bulletin board, notice in-hand, trying to find the courage to post it. "Whatcha doing?"

"Looking for a new roommate."

Slowly Rory's arm slide from his shoulder, and she crossed her arms. "Oh, yeah, I forgot. Bubbles moved out."

"Mandy," he said petulantly. "Her name is Mandy."

"Mandy, Brandy, Candy, Bubbles. Whatever. You and I know you can do better than her."

He looked at her, set the square of his jaw, and shook his head. "Nope. Not anymore. I've given up on doing better."

Rory cocked a disbelieving brown eyebrow at him. "What's that supposed to mean?"

"It means, I'm taking myself out of the game." With renewed determination, he reached up and tacked the notice on the board. "I am officially single and proud of it."

"Yeah, right." She narrowed her blue eyes at him without even glancing at the notice. "So, let me guess. Single, white male with medium-great apartment looking for roommate to split the rent. No smokers, druggies, or women need apply. 555-1265." She laughed as the annoyed look spread across hi face. "Oh, yeah. And no pets either."

Their gazes locked as he tried to decide how much of her speech as teasing and how much was making fun of him. Her smile was maddening to the core.

"What?" he finally asked in frustration.

"Nothing." She shrugged as though the question and him were utterly beyond help. On her heel, she turned and started away from him.

For two steps, he followed her, and then he turned back to the board, ripped down the notice, and looked at it. "Single, white male…" With one swipe he crumpled it into a tiny ball and threw it into the first available trashcan as he raced after her.

"What should I do then?" he asked, catching her just as she turned into her cubicle. "How else can I find a roommate?"

She shrugged as her hands rifled through the papers on her desk. "You put the word out – to your friends, people you know. Ask them if they know anyone who's looking."

"And that works?" he asked skeptically.

"That's how I met my last roommate. Best roommate I've ever had. She cooked, she cleaned, she even bought groceries if I gave her the money."

"Hmm." He leaned a long, smoke-grey pant leg onto her desk. "Sounds great. How can I…"

"You can't have her."

"Why not?"

"Because she got married three months ago."

"Oh." He held out the papers in his hands knowing he should be working. "Well, then, do you think…?"

"Sure, she said with a soft smile. "I'll ask around."

The papers fell back to his knee as he looked at her gratefully. "Man, I don't know where I'd be without you."

Three days later Rory poked her head around the corner of his cubicle. "Good news."

He didn't bother looking up from his computer as he continued typing the article in front of him. "Oh yeah? What's that?"

"I think I found someone."

"Lucky you," he said, his gaze never leaving his computer.

"Not for me, silly. For you."

"Huh?" he looked up confused.

"I found you a roommate," she said before she ducked back out of his cubicle and into her own.

"What?" He jumped up, sending his chair crashing to the floor although he didn't notice. In two seconds he was in her cubicle. He pulled the extra chair over to her desk and sat down expectantly. "Talk."

She sorted the papers on her desk for a few more seconds, and then she looked at him as the excitement flowed through her eyes. "A friend of mine from Yale – Dave Theron – you remember him, he's the guy we met when we were shopping for your couch that time. Remember, that ugly yellow thing you said reminded you of your grandmother's…"

"Rory."

The story stopped, and she looked at him as though they hadn't been sitting in her cubicle the whole time. "Oh, yeah. Well anyway, Dave's got this cousin. He's from Denver or someplace. He just moved to town, and he's staying with Dave until he can find a place."

Slowly she cocked her head to the side and looked at him expectantly. He sat, looking at her, waiting for the rest of the story, but she said nothing.

"And?" he finally asked, lifting his hand, motioning her to continue.

"And," she said as annoyance crept into her voice, "he'll be at your apartment tonite at seven – just for a meeting, nothing permanent."

"Oh, my gosh." His eyes closed with relief. "Thank you Ace. You're amazing, you know that?" With no hesitation, he stood, walked around her desk, and hugged her to him. "You have to be the best friend in the whole world."

She smiled into his starched shirt as she closed her eyes and breathed in the scent of him being so close. "Just happy to help."

There wasn't enough stuff in his apartment to clean three times, but he wanted everything to be perfect for the meeting. He arranged the two pillows Rory had bought for his couch twice before giving up and dusting the stereo system. It was silly, and a little obsessive-compulsive, to constantly worry about the cleanliness of the apartment, but what could he do.

He had never been the sentimental type and he was sure he would never fall for a girl. Ever. But then he met Mandy and all his defenses and walls seemed to sail out the window. Losing Mandy, the one girl he loved, seemed like the end of the world to him. Having to move would have pushed him over the edge. Carefully he replaced the smooth, ebony marble statue that had mysteriously appeared on his work desk last Christmas. It had stayed there until Mandy had come home and announced she was seeing someone else. Then the statue had relocated to his place over his stereo.

He was sure he received it mistakenly, but something about it was too personal, he didn't have the heart to throw it out.

A knock at the door brought him back to reality, and he checked the room once more before taking a deep breath and opening the door.

"Hi," a slightly taller man just younger than Logan said.

"Hi," Logan said awkwardly.

They stood silently for a few moments, sizing each other up.

"I'm Brian," the young man finally said, extending his hand. "Brian Easton."

Logan smiled in relief. "Logan Huntzberger." They shook hands. "You must be Dave's cousin."

"Yep," Brian said, not moving from the doorway.

"Oh, I'm sorry." Logan stepped back letting Brian enter the apartment.

"Nice place," Brian said with his hands securely stuck in his pockets. Weaving his body back and forth, he examined the apartment from each vantage point as his feet carried him across the hardwood floor.

"I just got home," Logan said, lying on a little bit. "So I haven't really had time to clean it up."

"It's nice," Brian said again, stopping to examine the kitchen and the little table.

"So, you just moved here?" Logan asked, following Brian through the apartment.

"Yeah, from Denver."

"Oh? Why'd you move?"

"Too cold," Brian said. "So, the bedrooms are upstairs then?"

"Yeah," Logan said, holding a hand up the stairs. "There's two bedrooms and one bath."

He let Brian go ahead of him and then followed him up, running his hands together with each step. "The rent's not too bad, but a little more than I can handle myself."

"What happened to your last roommate?" Brian asked, glancing in one of the bedrooms at the top of the stairs.

"I killed her," Logan said a little too seriously, and Brian arched an eyebrow at him. "No, I'm kidding." Logan laughed. "She moved out."

"She?" Brian nodded in understanding as he made his way to the bathroom. "So, how do you plan on splitting the groceries?"

Logan shrugged. "Doesn't matter. We could either buy our own or pool the money. Whichever."

Brian nodded. "What about the utilities and stuff?"

"Everything but the phone's included."

"Nice," Brian said, appraising the situation. "Well, are you…I mean, do you have any other options?"

"Nope, you're it," Logan said with a shrug.

"Well, I'll take it then." Brian extended his hand again. "When can I move in?"

"Whenever you're ready," Logan said, accepting the hand.

"So I hear congratulations are in order," Rory said, leaning against Logan's doorway with two Dixie cups in-hand.

He looked up from the computer and leaned back in his chair. "Hey, yeah. I didn't get a chance to thank you this morning."

"Yeah, yeah, but you meant to. I know." She handed him one cup and sat down.

"Champagne on the job?" he asked skeptically. "Rory, I didn't think you had it in you."

"Yes, you did," she said as he took a drink. "It's ginger-ale."

He nodded with a knowing smile as he took another drink. "Figures."

"Aren't we even going to toast?" she asked, having never so much as lifted her cup.

Instantly he stopped. "To what?"

She set her elbows on his desk and stared at him for a moment. "I don't know. How about to old friends and new friends."

"And all those in between," he said, raising his cup to hers.

A/N: This story is based on something I read a really long time ago and I have no idea why I'm writing it now. Please review & let me know what you think!