A/N: Yet another AYITL filler/fix attempt – I'm not sure if anyone is even still interested in these but I've been working on this on and off since the revival was released and figured that seeing as I'm writing it, I may as well share it.

My writing skills are incredibly rusty and I've never written GG fanfic before (never felt the need to until AYITL) but the messy story between Rory and Logan just won't leave me alone so I'm giving it a shot.

I'm also working on some during-AYITL filler and the inevitable post-gazebo conversation resolution so will probably try and publish that as well.

For now, this is how I imagine RL got from Hamburg to 'Winter' (one of many ways to be truthful, as their story was pretty vague in parts so gelling it all together is tricky) and there will be 5 parts to this story.

Story title comes from 'This Love' by Taylor Swift which I know has been used a lot for RL, I presume because it fits so beautifully. Chapter title from the exquisite 'Shape of You' by Ed Sheeran.

Part 1

your love was handmade for somebody like me

She still can't quite believe it. Here she is, nearly midnight on a Friday, in a basement jazz club in the centre of Hamburg, sitting across from Logan Huntzberger, the one who got away. Or more accurately, the one she pushed away with some considerable force after he backed her into a corner. At least, they started off sitting across from one another but as the drinks and conversation continued to flow they gradually slid closer and closer together until their knees are grazing and she's resting her hand on his arm.

He continues to enlighten her on Finn's latest exploits – free climbing in Yosemite where he, miraculously, came away completely unscarred if you don't count multiple blisters on his feet.

"You didn't feel the urge to join him, help hold the selfie stick?" Rory asks, leaning in further to look at the photo on Logan's phone.

"Erm, no, unfortunately, I was washing my hair that night." Logan's smile matches hers and as their eyes meet he thinks he feels his stomach flip.

"Oh Huntzberger you've lost your edge, it was bound to happen eventually," she teases.

"Not true. Just last week I volunteered to run the gauntlet and accompany my mother to the opera. On my own. Of my own accord. No idea what came over me, the MRI scan is booked for next week to check for brain damage."

She laughs at his tales and she is truly laughing, from the bottom of her belly, and it feels good. She hasn't laughed like this in a really long time. She catches him scanning her body as she leans forward to replace her empty glass on the table in front of them; he immediately lifts the champagne bottle from the ice bucket and starts refilling. She probably stares at his mouth for too long, that sexy smile gracing his lips, and she starts to feel dizzy.

Rory grabs her purse and stands. "I'm just going to pop to the bathroom, I'll be right back."

Logan nods in response and watches her walk away. How he ended up here with Rory he had no idea, he hadn't had the opportunity to really think this through. He had agreed to drinks at a local bar with his colleagues from the Hamburg office but in truth he wanted nothing more than to retreat back to his hotel, order room service and zone out in front of the TV. He so rarely got a break from work, and from London in general, that he was treating this weekend as an excuse for a mini-vacation and he had wanted to rest up before he explored the port the next day.

But then he saw her. It was under 10 minutes from him seeing her across the crowd to her invitation to find somewhere more private to catch up. He remembers confidently strolling right up to her, that confidence quickly wearing thin as they exchanged polite but stunted greetings, the people around them seemingly ignorant to the obvious tension between the pair. She explained that she was out with a few freelancers that she'd met in town and when one in particular returned with a drink for Rory in his hand, even Logan was surprised at how firmly he clasped the other man's hand and clenched his teeth as she introduced them. But if he wasn't mistaken, when Sofia, one of his local senior editors, pulled him to one side to relay a message, he swore he could see a similar possessiveness flash in Rory's eyes.

She instinctively moved closer towards him after the leggy blonde retreated back to their crowd and as he was explaining what brought him to Germany, the music in the bar got progressively louder until they found themselves shouting in the other's ear.

"Do you want to go and get a drink?" she asked.

He could feel boldness mixed with a good dose of uncertainty radiating off of her. They both looked at the still full glasses in their hands.

"A different drink?" she suggested, laughing. "Maybe somewhere a bit quieter, but still lively? Somewhere we could talk, it's been so long."

"I know just the place." He assured, leading her to the door and directing a goodbye nod to his associates.

Rory stares into the bathroom mirror after reapplying her lipstick, her dilated blue eyes reflecting back at her, what was she thinking asking him out for more drinks? Things were safe in the crowded bar, plenty of nameless faces to mitigate their interaction, bland background music to match the uninteresting conversations, bright lights shining a stark reality on them. But here, with the alcohol to assist them, they had slipped back into their intimacy of years long ago, shared glances, inside jokes, cosy touching. She knew what she was doing, what she was insinuating (offering?) when she asked him to leave his colleagues and he whisked her away to the other side of the city. To make matters worse (or was it better?) she knew that he knew too.

She could blame the shock of seeing him again for the first time in God knows how long in the last place she would expect to run into him for her actions, but in truth she had always known that whenever (and it was always a question of 'when' and not 'if) she and Logan would find themselves alone again, that it would be like this.

This is a bad idea, she knows this is a bad idea. The guise of 'old friends catching up' was quickly disintegrating; she can't be strictly platonic with Logan and it would be reckless, not to mention immoral (she was supposed to be having dinner with Paul on Monday night), to pretend otherwise.

Rory takes a deep breath as she considers her reflection again. Well, you only live once right? She drops a button on her dress and walks back out to rejoin him.

She brushes against him as she resumes her seat and he hands her a newly filled champagne flute. "If I didn't know any better I'd think you were trying to get me drunk," Rory doesn't even attempt to disguise the flirtation in her voice.

"I have never tried to get you drunk. I have simply provided the libations and allowed you to choose for yourself. It's not my fault that you more often than not you chose to indulge." He grins at her so smugly that it takes everything in her to not indulge him right here.

She settles back into her seat and Logan can't help but notice the alteration in her red outfit, this was turning into a very dangerous evening. He couldn't deny that despite the initial awkwardness (not to be unexpected considering how things ended and how little they had kept in touch over the last 7 years) it had taken his breath away to see her before him again and it surprised him how effortlessly they slipped into their old habits – gentle mocking, witty banter. He could definitely imagine going home with her tonight but he also realises that he probably shouldn't. That would be opening a can of worms that he wasn't sure could be sealed again.

"You seeing anyone?" He poses, as casually as he possibly can.

"I suppose, sort of, some guy." Logan quirks his eyebrow encouraging her to continue. "He's fine, whatever. It's not serious. It's not going to last or anything."

"Well I'm sure he'll be thrilled to hear that glowing review." He keeps his tone light but he can't lie to himself, he is absolutely fucking delighted that she's single (or almost single, whatever).

"I don't know, it is what it is. I don't really have the time, or inclination, for dating right now." Rory is suddenly very aware of Logan watching her amusedly. "What about you?"

He shrugs before draining his glass and signals to the waiter for another bottle of champagne. "Similar, I suppose. There's someone, I've known her for a while. My grandfather used to work with her grandfather, but then their family business branched outside of mainstream media, now we're sort of all doing business again. It's a whole load of commerce, which bores even me so I won't go into it. Basically we go to events together, all the parents are kept happy. My mom likes her."

Rory purses her lips. "Ooh, and you thought my description was scathing."

He laughs, "No, she's nice enough, despite my mother's affinity for her. But, I can't see it going anywhere. There's not much of … a spark. I kind of think you need a spark, or lots of them preferably." He grins at her knowingly and she can feel herself getting warmer under his gaze.

She breathes out slowly, knowing that this is the part of the conversation where she is expected to say something, anything, but words, her typical raison d'etre, completely fail her. All she can hear is her own blood pulsing through her veins and all she can see is his tongue sweeping over his lips.

Rory moves to kiss him, capturing his mouth with hers and not bothering to start slow. She slips her tongue between his lips and leans in to him so closely she's practically astride him. Logan responds immediately, burying a hand in her hair while the other rests on the small of her back. He is thankful for whatever he was thinking earlier when he decided to get them a private table. The space between them grows narrower still as he lifts her so she is sitting in his lap. His mouth continues its assault down the column of her throat and Rory is desperate to explore more of him with her hands but the size and shape of the booth restricts her movements. She grinds down onto him when he nips at her bottom lip and she can feel his body respond to her. Logan lets out a low growl and Rory is awakened to the fact that though it is fairly private, they're not exactly gifted with a cloak of invisibility in the dimly lit club.

"How far is your hotel?" she whispers in ragged breaths.

"Across the street. Why'd you think I suggested we come here?" He pulls back just far enough that she can see the cocky smirk he wears.

His self-assurance rarely shocked her. She leans in to kiss him again, gently sucking on his lip and soothing it with her tongue.

"Let's go." She stands, pulling him up with her.

"Are you sure?" he asks, putting a bit of distance between them but keeping his hand still encased in hers. He couldn't lie, he's known all night that there was a distinct possibility of it ending like this, but he had no idea what was going through Rory's head and he had to let her take the lead.

"You gotta learn to live a little Huntzberger," Rory leans in to whisper in his ear before pulling him towards the exit.

They leave the club hand in hand and the cold night air hits Rory almost immediately. She shivers visibly ("I forgot how far north Hamburg is") and Logan slips his jacket from his shoulders and around hers. She turns to say thank you and his lips capture hers in a kiss. Their merging breath feels disproportionately warm in contrast to the autumnal chill surrounding them and she involuntarily leans further into his embrace. She slides her arms around his waist and sweeps her tongue into his willing mouth, kissing him hard and deep. Logan really starts to worry that they're not going to make it back to his room.

They manage to rein themselves in enough to walk the hundred or so yards to his hotel and it's not until they are in the relative privacy of the elevator before they gravitate together once again. Logan considers himself to be demonstrating remarkable restraint as he keeps one hand tangled in her curls and the other firmly on her waist. Rory, on the other hand, is less modest and allows her hands to roam freely and she begins untucking his shirt from his pants. God, he had missed this side of her – he'd missed every side of her of course – but right now, in this moment, he was beyond grateful for her passion and impulsivity. Not everyone is lucky enough to witness those elements of her, and some certainly wouldn't believe it, with them seemingly being so at odds with her often mindful and sensible exterior.

He breaks away from her to open the door to his suite and she follows him inside. Her eyes quickly dart around the lavish but modern room before she refocuses on the man in front of her. She removes his jacket and places it and her purse on the nearest table before moving to encircle his hips again.

"Rory, we don't have to do this if you don't want." He utters before she reaches him, her hands on his chest and her lips on his jaw. Logan pauses and asks again, softer this time, his nickname for her finally falling from his lips, "Ace, are you sure?"

She sighs in frustration and looks him dead in the eye. "Of course, I'm sure. God, sometimes, I really wish you weren't such a gentleman."

With that he thrusts her up against the closed door, their hands entwined, hips pressed into one another, his lips a hairsbreadth away from hers. "That can be arranged."

Rory stares at the ceiling, eyes wide open and her surroundings start to come back into focus. She regains control of her breathing and tilts her head slightly to face the man next to her.

"So that probably wasn't the best idea either of us has ever had."

He smirks and bites back a sexy retort. "Probably not," he concedes. "Gotta say though, if that's what our bad ideas are like, God help us if we ever have a good one."

She blushes before burying her face in his chest and sliding her legs between his. "What was that? I mean, it's always been good but that was definitely more than good."

"I think that's what happens when you wait 7 years for break-up sex."

"Is that what this is – break-up sex?" Rory lifts her head to look at him.

"You know, I'm not sure if there's a name for what this is." Logan kisses her softly, the softest he's kissed her all night, and brushes the hair away from her face.

"So …" Rory begins but with no idea how to continue.

Where do they go from here? Should they talk now or in the morning? Assuming he wants her to stay that is. Judging by the look on his face and his hand on her hip he's not about to kick her out of bed. In all honestly, the champagne has gone to her head and she can feel her eyelids getting heavier. Her muscles are tired and she's feeling more relaxed than she has done in years. She instinctively curls further into his embrace and Logan pulls the sheets around them.

He feels the tension start to leave her body and her breathing even out. As much as he doesn't want this night to end, they have tomorrow to figure things out, to catch up some more, to make love again before they both have to leave the city that brought them back together. Logan really doesn't want to think about what happens on Sunday morning when his flight leaves for London and hers for New York. He really doesn't want to comprehend the conversation they are going to have when they realise that they live and work on opposite sides of an ocean and that this night has probably set them both back about 7 years in terms of emotional development.

For now, he'll take what he can get and Rory Gilmore falling asleep in his arms is much more than he thought he would be getting when he landed in Hamburg 2 days ago. He places another gentle kiss on her lips and they both murmur goodnights as he switches off the light.

It takes everything in him not to follow it up with I love you.

When they wake the next morning, he mumbles Good morning Ace into her bare shoulder and for a moment she thinks that she is back in college, waking up in their bed in New Haven. She soon realises that they are in fact in a hotel room in Germany, that they're both seeing other people and that they'll both be leaving the country in 24 hours.

She turns to face him. "Good morning." They kiss and it's so familiar it hurts, like there's no reason they shouldn't have been doing this all this time.

Logan feels her tense against him as she racks her brain for the right thing to say.

"So … what do we do now?" is all she can muster.

"You want some coffee?" He offers, quirking an eyebrow at the rhetorical question.

"How do you always know just what to say?" She giggles and pushes him off of the bed and towards the coffee maker.

Logan begins to prepare the coffee and passes Rory the room service menu. "Breakfast?" he offers.

"Breakfast sounds good." she smiles contentedly.

"So, I know you said that your flight leaves tomorrow morning, but do you have plans for today?" he asks as he hands her a large cup of coffee and sits beside her on the bed.

"Nope, free as a bird. You?"

"Likewise."

"So, we've got today." They both nod in understanding. They better make today count.

What a day it is. It's a beautiful September day in Hamburg, clear skies and bright sunshine. Presumably it's fairly warm but Rory and Logan can't know for sure as they don't leave his hotel suite. The room service is delicious and the mimosas help them to loosen up and recreate the relaxed mood from the previous night.

It's sex and passion and friendship and catching up and before long it feels like old times. Rory has to stop herself from falling too hard, too fast, like last time. It can't be like last time. She can't do that again. Can't lose him again. Can't miss him again. Can't get over him again. Evidently, she needs to get over him for a first time to start with.

They sit on the bed in fluffy bathrobes with an array of snacks spread around them. She asks more about his move to London the year before, and tells him how proud she is of him for returning to his family's business in his own time, with his own rules. He laughs and admits that though he runs his own division and is still a partner of his independent company, his father still finds a way to be omnipresent in his life. He shows her pictures of his niece and nephew and explains how Honor is doing her part in rebelling against their family traditions by continuing to work after having the children as well as abandoning her DAR responsibilities.

She talks more about living in New York (when she's there), and her family back in Stars Hollow and Hartford. They discuss the times they have avoided each other at Yale alumni events over the last few years and agree to not let awkwardness come between them again. When she mentions that her upcoming freelance work will be bringing her to London more often, he suggests she stay with him when she is next in the city.

"So, if we saw each other in London, would it be like this?" she gestures between them and around the dishevelled suite, last night's clothes strewn where they had dropped them.

"If you wanted it to be." Logan promises with darkened eyes.

"You're deflecting the question."

"So are you."

She laughs and leans in to kiss him.

"We live 3,500 miles apart."

"Most of the time." He counters.

"We're both seeing other people." Rory continues to list.

"Technically."

"We don't exactly have an uncomplicated history."

"True." Logan admits.

"Is this a bad idea?" she poses nervously.

He exhales. "Probably," he confesses, his thumb drawing circles on her thigh.

Rory watches him caress her skin and draws a deep breath. "Want to do it anyway?" She offers boldly, observing his expression change from uncertain to amused.

"Definitely." He devours her mouth again and pushes her back into the mattress.

They say their goodbyes the next morning amongst harried kisses and greedy touches and Rory waits until she is at her terminal before sending Logan a quick text.

Thanks for a great weekend. It might have been a bad idea but I don't regret it xx

He responds almost immediately.

There's no such thing as a bad idea when it comes to you Ace. Have a safe flight xx

Rory replies quickly.

You too. And remember – What happens in Vegas … xx

She smiles at his response.

Trust me, I won't be forgetting about any of this xx

As Logan boards his plane it occurs to him that he never did get to tour the Port of Hamburg and he didn't really much care.