A/N: Sorry for the long wait. Real life became a bit chaotic. Hope you enjoy this!

Chapter Three

Rory sat in the waiting room at Dynasty Makers, idly flipping through an article about something called Bento box lunches in a parenting magazine. She paused on a tutorial of how to make tiny turkeys out of grape tomatoes and cheddar cheese. She moved on to the tutorial below for Mickey Mouse cantaloupe bites using something called a melon baller.

"I'm going to need to get more kitchen equipment," Rory murmured to herself.

"Don't even start on that crack," the woman next to her said, pointing at the magazine. "One minute you're cutting your kid's sandwich into a star and the next you're trying to recreate the Mona Lisa using only cheese."

"That does sound dangerous."

"Will this be your first?" she asked.

Rory nodded. "Yeah. It sounds like you already have kids?"

The woman grinned. "Yes. One beautiful boy, thanks to this office. I apparently have a hostile uterus. Anyway, I'm trying for a complete pair now."

"A complete pair?" Rory questioned.

"Boy and girl," the woman explained easily.

"Oh. Right. But, um, I'm actually not here for an appointment. I'm just meeting the owner for lunch."

As if on cue, Paris strode out of her back office with her characteristic air of self-importance and impatience. She stopped in front of Rory and said, "My incompetent assistant scheduled an appointment at 1:00, so we'll have to make lunch quick."

Rory glanced behind Paris and saw said assistant shaking nervously in the doorway of the office.

"That's fine. I have a lot of errands to run this afternoon anyway."

"Alright. We better get going." Paris headed toward the doorway and tossed back to her assistant, "Kelly, make sure everything is ready for that 1:00 appointment unless you miss delivering celery sticks to seventeen year olds at Buffalo Wild Wings."

Rory stood and the woman beside her said, "Best of luck to you with your pregnancy."

Rory blanched, glancing back to see if Paris heard. Luckily, her friend was already outside. Rory turned her attention back to the woman and quickly said, "Thanks, same to you. I hope you complete your pair."

Rory walked out of the office and nearly walked directly into Paris, who wore a distinct expression of betrayal similar to the one she wore when Rory offhandedly told her that she was impressed by Doyle's new Hollywood career.

"You're pregnant," Paris said, her tone accusing.

"Yes, I –"

"Who did it? New Hope? Fertility Specialists? Dr. Horowitz and Associates?!"

"No one did it," Rory told her, working toward a calm tone.

"Well, Dynasty Makers sure as hell didn't. So, who was it?"

Rory took a deep breath. "Logan Huntzberger."

Paris blinked rapidly and asked, "When did he get into the fertility business?"

"Well, uh, it usually was after the Graham Norton show and a glass of Merlot. But we always used protection. I think this can be attributed to a night of tango dancing and the Life & Death Brigade. It was about a month and a half ago. The whole night was sort of a pipe dream. And that pipe dream did not include condoms."

"You got pregnant from one night of unprotected sex?" Paris said appraisingly. "You know, if your book plans stall –"

"I'm not going to be a surrogate, Paris."

"We pay well."

"Still not happening."

Paris sighed. "Your loss. So, Huntzberger, huh? Did he pass out when you told him?"

"No, he was actually really good with it all. Immediately booked a flight to Connecticut."

"Are you to together now?"

Rory shook her head. "No, we're just…I don't know. We're two people about to have a baby?"

Paris nodded. "Anyway, I see why you scheduled this lunch and the answer is yes. I would be honored to be your obstetrician."

Rory blanched at the image of Paris between her legs.

"Oh, Paris. No. That's really nice of you, but Logan and I were actually looking at Dr. Berkowitz. He was Honor's obstetrician and –"

"Absolutely not," Paris interrupted. "Dr. Berkowitz is a hack. I'm half convinced that he printed his medical license off of the internet. I am the best in the business."

"I just think we want someone - " she saw Paris' raised eyebrows and quickly corrected with, "I want someone that I don't know as well. It would make me more comfortable."

Paris considered this for a moment and then said, "I understand your position. I disagree with it, but I understand. Come on, let's get lunch and I can give you names of obstetricians who aren't complete idiots. It's a short list, but there are some."

Rory sat on the train back to Connecticut and updated Logan on her lunch with Paris. He went back to London the night before, reluctantly returning to his work and Odette. Admittedly, Rory was sad to see him leave, as well, but she would never tell him that.

"Apparently Dr. Berkowitz is a hack," Rory told him.

"Honor's kids seem okay."

"A fluke, according to Paris," Rory said. "She gave me a few names of obstetricians in the area, including herself."

Logan laughed. "Paris wants to be your obstetrician?"

"She was oddly insistent," Rory said. "Anyway, the other names sound good."

"Send them to me," Logan said. "Unless you're set on one."

"I'm not. My only criteria is not Paris."

"That seems fair."

"So, how is London? Nice and rainy?"

"Like straight out of a BBC miniseries," Logan returned. "How are you feeling?"

Rory smirked. "About the same as when you texted me this morning."

"I stand by my texts," Logan said. "I don't want to miss any moments, Ace."

"I know you don't."

She heard someone talking on Logan's end of the phone call and then he said, "Shit, I'm sorry, Ace. I have to go. Send me those names, okay?"

"I will."

"And if anything happens –"

"You will be my first call. Now, go publish things."

She could hear the grin in his voice when he said, "Alright. Bye, Ace."

"Bye Logan."

Logan walked out of his office and raked his fingers through his hair. His 5:00 appointment stood in his building's lobby, looking as put together as always in her simple shift dress and high-heeled boots. Odette was many things, and well dressed was at the top of that list. She was on the phone, her clipped French tone reaching him before her green eyes. She gave him an apologetic look, holding up on slim finger as she finished up her call. He learned a bit of French since they got together a year ago, but all he was able to catch of her conversation was her irritation and the word salmon.

"Do you understand the difference between salmon and dover sole?" she asked after she hung up. "Because the caterer I just spoke to apparently does not."

"Of course I know the difference. I'm a Huntzberger," he said, pressing his lips to her cheek briefly.

"You know, you wield your name almost as much as my father does his," Odette said. She patted his cheek affectionately and said, "That's not a compliment."

"Hey, I didn't mean it in a good way. You think a ten year old really wants to be schooled on different types of fish?"

"I think it depends on the ten year old," she returned.

"I made us reservations at Soldi for dinner," he said. She made a face and he said, "But we can go somewhere else?"

"Do you mind if we order in? Today has been shit."

"Everything okay?"

She shrugged. "I got in a fight with Helen this morning. And now, I have this salmon debacle to deal with. I think I just need dinner on a couch."

"That can be arranged," he said. "What happened with Helen?"

"She read that article about us in the New York Times last week. She wasn't pleased."

"I can't blame her. That piece failed to capture our true essence as a couple," he said, attempting some levity.

Odette smirked. "Oh yes. The part about my English girlfriend and your pregnant American ex-girlfriend must have been left on the cutting room floor."

"Helen will come around. She knows what you're dealing with."

Odette nodded, mouth pulled into a frown. She linked her arm with his and said, "Can you imagine a world where we weren't indebted to our asshole parents?"

"We could just say screw it," Logan said, wistful but not entirely ruling out the possibility.

"We'd be cut off in a second," she said. "You know that. And neither of us can afford that right now."

"You really think our families would come after us?"

"We were both conditionally bought out of the shit storms we got ourselves into," Odette reminded him. "Our wedding was part of the deal. A marriage of two honorable families, remember?"

"How could I forget?" he said in a low voice. "The dynastic plan proving just how archaic and fucked up it is in equal measure."

"We're stuck together," Odette said. "For better or worse, unless we want to bring on the wrath of both of our families and their well-compensated attorneys."

"Part of me wonders if it'd be worth it," he said, thinking of Rory.

"Are you serious?" Odette said. She looked up at him, expression stricken. "Wait, you are serious. Logan –"

"Wouldn't you rather actually be with someone you like instead of me?" he pressed.

"I like you!"

"You know what I mean."

"And you know I can't," Odette said, somewhat forcefully.

"Look, I talked to Rory about us when all of this started, and –"

"You told her about Helen?"

"No, of course not," he said quickly. "I promised you that I wouldn't."

Odette took a deep breath. "Let's just go eat dinner. We'll talk about this later."

He wanted to talk about it now, but could tell that he wouldn't get anywhere.

"Okay," he said. "We'll talk about it later."

TWO WEEKS LATER

Logan and Rory sat in the doctor's office, listening to their obstetrician, Dr. Reynolds, who was thoroughly vetted by Paris, take them through a dizzying amount of information regarding the first trimester. Dr. Reynolds noticed the somewhat glazed expression on both of their faces and said, "It's a lot of information to take in."

"You could say that," Rory said, her nerves pulled tightly. She looked over at Logan and asked, "Did you digest a bit of that?"

"A bit," he echoed. "That's probably not enough, right?"

"That's what the pamphlets are for," Dr. Reynolds told him. "You both seem like very nice and smart people. You will do fine. Are we ready for the ultrasound?"

"Yes, absolutely," Rory said, putting more confidence in her voice than she truly felt. For some reason, it felt like the ultrasound made all of this real. The baby wouldn't be a vague notion, but an image on a sonogram.

"Okay, then let's lean back."

Rory felt her heart beat quicken when Dr. Reynolds opened the hospital gown a bit and gently spread a cold gel over her abdomen. He pressed the transducer over her abdomen and changed the placement slightly before saying, "Ah, there you are."

"Where?" Rory said leaning forward. The transducer slipped down her abdomen, and the image shifted. "Where'd it go? What just happened?"

"I think you need to lay still," Logan said, laying a hand on her shoulder. Dr. Reynolds moved the transducer and the same image as before appeared on the monitor. It was a collection of shadows and shapes that Rory couldn't even begin to decipher. Dr. Reynolds pointed to an area at the center of the monitor and said, "That's your baby right here. And…" he pressed a button and suddenly Rory's ears were filled with the sound of her baby's heart beat.

Rory reached blindly for Logan's hand only to find that he was also reaching for her. She held his hand tightly to her chest.

"That's our baby," she murmured, unable to take her eyes away from the monitor. "That's our baby, Logan."

Logan nodded wordlessly, eyes trained on the image. He remembered when Honor and Josh were pregnant, and they had the sonogram posted on their refrigerator. He didn't understand the compulsion to show off the indecipherable shadows and shapes then. What was the point? He understood now. He understood more than he'd ever understood anything.

"Can we have a copy of that?" Logan asked. "I'd like a few. Rory, do you-"

"Yes, I want one. More than one, actually. My mom and Luke will probably want one. And my grandma."

"I'll give you a good stack's worth," Dr. Reynolds said. "And I can make you a recording of the heartbeat, too. Some parents like that."

"Yes please," Rory said. "Thank you."

"Okay, I will get those printed," Dr. Reynolds said, removing the transducer from Rory's stomach. He grabbed a tissue and wiped the gel from her abdomen. "You can get dressed."

Rory sat up, feeling shaky and elated at the same time. She still held Logan's hand, and when she looked up at him she saw the same wonderment mirrored in his eyes.

"This is really happening," Rory murmured.

"I know. It really is happening."

Rory grinned, and the expression went all the way to her eyes. She let go of his hand and said, "I should change. Do you mind…"

"No, not at all. I'll be right outside."

Rory nodded. "Okay."

Logan left and she hopped down to the ground. She quickly changed into her clothes, and after she tugged her shirt down she laid her hand on the soft swell of her belly. Glancing quickly at the door, she sat back down and brought her other hand to her stomach.

"Hey kid. It's me. Your mom. I just saw you and you were pretty amazing. Blob-like, but amazing." She let out a shaky breath. "I don't really know what I'm doing yet, but I promise to learn by the time you get here. So, you just stay safe inside there, okay?"

There was a knock on the door and Rory looked up, startled. She stood up and said, "Come in."

Logan walked in with an envelope in his hand. "Are you ready?"

Rory nodded. "Yeah. I'm ready."

A/N: And that's a wrap on chapter three!