AN: I wrote this as a stand alone piece, but I also wrote it to fit in with the Rediscovering Universe. So, if you're reading Rediscovering, you can consider this a prequel of sorts. If you're not reading Rediscovering, then I highly recommend you do because I like to self promote, BUT-it's totally not necessary for you to enjoy this story.

He knew he was supposed to be paying attention to the keynote. If for no other reason than the speaker was a personal friend. But all Logan could focus on was the brunette in red a few rows in front of him. His eyes had been drawn to her almost immediately, even though all he could see were auburn waves and a bright red outfit. He hadn't understood why he was so drawn to her-until she turned her head slightly, just enough to give him the briefest of peaks at her profile.

His breath hitched in his throat. It couldn't be her. Not here, thousands of miles from home. Not after all this time. He tried to tell himself he was imagining it. He'd barely seen any of her face; he could easily be projecting. But still, his eyes refused to budge. Maybe it was her posture. Or the way she leaned forward at all the right moments. Maybe it was the way her head tilted backwards in laughter when the speaker made a joke. Whatever it was, he couldn't shake the feeling, deep down in his bones, that the woman in red was Rory Gilmore.

He shifted anxiously in his seat, his knee bouncing with nervous energy. He barely noticed the side eye he was receiving from the man in the neighboring seat who clearly didn't appreciate the incessant toe tapping.

He didn't know why he was feeling this way. So what if it were her? They'd been broken up for seven years. He'd moved on. It had been a struggle in the beginning. He'd been all alone, learning how to fend for himself. He had succeeded, but he'd been lonely. So when Mitchum came knocking, looking to buy them out, he hadn't fought against it like he should. And honestly, it was a relief, being back in the fold. His family was difficult, but they were his family. And as happy as he was that he'd had the opportunity to prove himself apart from the family business-in the end-he'd wound up where he belonged.

And on the personal front, after years of intermittent dating, and short-term relationships that left him feeling unfulfilled, he'd met someone who could be something. They'd been together for almost a year now. The long distance was difficult, and they were both busy with their careers, but slowly, they had fallen in love. His parents had been thrilled. And he was happy too.

So why did it matter if Rory Gilmore was at the same convention as him? He was over her. Wasn't he?

Logan was broken from his thoughts by the sound of applause. The speech was over, and judging by the standing ovation, his friend had killed it. He should go congratulate him. But then, the woman turned, bending down to grab her purse and there was no longer any question as to her identity. Before Logan could think about it, he was pushing his way out to the aisle

His heart was pounding in his chest, beating at an unnatural rhythm. She was caught up in conversation with another woman around her age as she made her way up the aisle towards him, completely oblivious to his presence.

"Well if it isn't Rory Gilmore, as I live and breathe." The words came out easily, almost confidently, though he was anything but.

He saw the spark in her eyes as she registered the sound of her name through the din of the crowd. She looked away from her conversation to search for the source.

He stood still, not daring to breath. Her eyes finally landed on him and she blinked, as though trying to make sure she was really seeing what she thought she was seeing. And then, her sapphire blue eyes brightened with recognition and her lips turned up into a beaming smile.

"Logan? Oh my god, what are you doing here?" She took the last few steps to close the distance that still separated them and threw her arms around him. The hug was genuine, and warm but nothing that two old friends wouldn't share. It only lasted a moment, but that was all it took. His body was buzzing, aching for more.

"Oh, I came to Hamburg for the churches. You see, I've recently discovered religion." She let out a chuckle, softly slapping him on the chest.

"Oh, stop it. You know what I meant. Besides, if you stepped into a church, you'd probably burst into flames."

"It's true," he admitted. His voice lowered dangerously. "I'm a very naughty boy." Their eyes connected and held. He noted the way her pupils dilated. For a moment it was just the two of them.

Until the sound of a throat clearing broke them from their staring match.

"Oh..." Rory said, startled, looking back and forth from Logan to her other companion. "Logan, this is Kristin Alexander," she introduced. "She's a reporter for Vice. Kris, this is Logan Huntzberger."

"I know," Kris commented, reaching out a hand. "It's an honor to meet you, Logan. I'm a big fan of your work."

"The pleasure is all mine," he replied smoothly, giving this other woman his knee-weakening smirk while his eyes flitted back to Rory, trying to let her know that the expression was really meant for her.

"So, how do you two know each other?" Kris asked.

"Oh well, um..." Logan noticed a slight flush to Rory's cheeks as she stumbled along. "We, um...we used to date back at Yale."

"Nice," she replied, giving Logan the once over.

Rory's complexion reddened even further. "I think we're holding up traffic. We should..." She pointed towards the exit.

Logan felt his gut twist at the thought of leaving. Once they made it out of the auditorium, then what? Another hug and a 'see you around'? He couldn't let that happen. Not that he had any idea what he did want to happen, but that was beside the point.

"After you," he replied, trying to act cool. He turned, placing a hand at the small of her back. Kris shot him a knowing look, raising her eyebrows, then glancing down at the position of his hand.

They made their way up the aisle towards the exit and out into the hallway of the convention center.

"So, you two went to Yale together." Kris said, once they were free of the crowd. "Good school."

"The best," Logan replied.

Awkward silence followed. Kris yawned conspicuously. "You know, I'm really tired. Jet lag sucks. I think I'm gonna head back to the hotel."

Logan turned to her, trying to size her up. Did she want to leave with Rory, or did she want to leave Rory and him alone?

"Are you sure?" he asked congenially. "The night is young and Hamburg is hopping. We could head out for a beer. I hear Germany has some good ones."

"I'm not really in the 'hopping' head space," Kris smiled. "But you two should go. I bet you have a lot of catching up to do." Logan smiled back gratefully.

Rory looked to her friend with uncertainty. "Are you sure? Do you want me to walk back with you?"

"No," Kris assured her. "I'll be fine. I promise."

Rory looked conflicted. She pulled her lower lip in, gnawing at it lightly. Logan felt his blood run south. She continued to look at her friend for a moment before glancing back at Logan. Their eyes met again and the uncertainty was wiped from her face. "Get back safe," she instructed. "Text me when you're there."

"Yes, Mother," the girl said with an eye roll. She turned to Logan. "It was nice meeting you, Logan. I hope we'll have a chance to chat some time this week. I'd love to pick your brain on the developing role of social media on the future of journalism."

"That sounds great," he replied. He'd make sure to find her again. He was grateful, and he wanted her to know it. Kris slipped away without another word, leaving Rory and Logan alone.

"So," Rory said. "Beer huh? I thought you were a scotch man."

Logan gave her his best smile. "When in Hamburg, Ace..."

The Bier Haus was dark and packed. An alt-rock band played what sounded like a cover of the Modest Mouse Song, Float On, only it was in German. Rory and Logan sat in a circular booth at the back of the bar. The tabletop was full. There was a half-eaten pretzel hanging from a rod with an array of dipping sauces, a plate of bratwurst, and an order of dumplings. A fresh flight of beer had just been placed in front of them.

"Here, try this," Logan told her, scooping up a fork full of food and offering it to her.

They had started the evening off with a respectable amount of distance between them. It was all very innocent. Just two friends catching up. She had told him about her time with the Obama press core, her brief stint at a small paper in Brooklyn before it went belly-up, and about her current freelance projects. He told her about his start-up and how he wound up back at Huntzberger Publishing. And somehow, by the time they'd made it through the professional updates, he was sitting right next to her, so close he could feel the warmth radiating off her leg. So close he could feed her.

She opened her mouth welcomingly, closing her lips around the utensil as he slowly pulled it out of her mouth. He watched as the flavors attacked her taste buds. She swallowed with her eyes closed, licking her lips.

She opened her eyes and her face morphed from sensual to playful. "I am just drunk enough to say this sentence out loud-but I enjoy the wiener schnitzel."

Logan laughed. "Well that's not a surprise. I certainly remember how much you enjoyed my schnitzel."

Rory buried her face in her hands. "See, this is why I don't say these things sober."

"What can I say?" Logan asked. "I like making you blush."

Rory's already pink complexion turned red. "See," he said tenderly, bringing his hand to her face to gently caress her cheek. "Just like that."

Rory's breath quickened as their eyes locked.

Logan pulled his hand away. He was treading in very dangerous territory. He knew this was wrong, but it all felt so right.

"So, how's Paris been?" he asked.

Rory chuckled at the topic change. "Excuse me?" she asked

"Paris. Crazy ex-roommate," he clarified. If there was one topic that had any chance of putting a damper on his out of control libido, it was Paris Gellar.

"Umm, well, she finished medical school, and went straight to law school. She graduated last spring and started her own surrogacy agency."

"Surrogacy?" Logan asked incredulously. "As in babies?" Paris and children did not mix.

"Yep. And speaking of...she and Doyle are having twins."

Logan's eyes widened in bemusement. He tried to hold back his laughter as he replied "I'm sorry, could you repeat that..."

"She and Doyle are having twins."

"I..." a chuckle escaped from his lips at the absurdity. "I don't even know where to start with that."

"Be happy for them," Rory chided. "I mean, what are the chances that those two could not only find each other, but put up with each other for so long?"

"True," Logan agreed, "but that was before Paris was pregnant and hormonal." He broke down into full on laughter.

"You're mean," she scolded playfully, a sexy pout on her face.

Logan smirked, placing his hand on her knee. "Because Rory Gilmore would never dream of mocking anybody," he answered, his voice low and husky.

"Never," she breathed out. He felt her foot brush against his ankle.

"You're far too sophisticated for that kind of behavior..." he whispered, his fingers caressing lightly against the bare skin of her leg.

"Absolutely," she nodded. "I am a paragon of all things proper." She draped her leg over his, in contrast to her words. He inhaled sharply, reaching for his beer with his free hand to quench his suddenly dry throat. The fingers on her leg slid higher, even though he knew better.

He couldn't help himself. Here, with Rory, he felt as though the last seven years had been nothing but a dream. Like he was still some 25-year-old kid with all the hope and promise that laid before him. He felt strangely uninhibited. Like he could do anything. Like he could fly. Afterall, with Rory he had. But there was still that tiny, nagging, pit of guilt.

She leaned into him, turning her body to face his. "You're just like I remember you," she said with a bittersweet smile.

"A lot has changed since college," he reminded her. Or maybe he was reminding himself. He wasn't 25 anymore. He wasn't hers. He had a whole new life. He had Odette.

"A lot," she replied, reaching up and running the pad of her thumb over his lips, "And not so much."

"Ace," he breathed out.

"God, I missed that." Her fingers caressed his jaw.

"What?" he asked.

"Hearing you call me 'Ace'." She tilted her head up and before he knew it, they were kissing. Her lips were soft, and plump. She tasted of hops, and just a hint of cherry. Her mouth opened and he pushed his tongue inside. It all felt so natural, like they'd never stopped.

"Let's get out of here," she said, once they had finally pulled away.

"I don't know if that's a good idea," he protested weakly. Who was he kidding? Like there had ever been a chance this night would end any other way?

"I know it's not," she answered. Her hand reached between his legs and squeezed his hard-on. "But I also know you want to."

He groaned at the contact, grabbing for his phone on the table.

"What are you doing?" she asked.

"Ordering us an Uber." His fingers flitted over the device and in less than a minute, the car and been called. He stood up, grabbing his wallet from his pocket, and pulling a stack of Euros from within. Without even counting, he threw them on the table and reached for her hand. "Let's go."

They grabbed their coats and headed for the exit.

The car arrived within minutes. He opened the door for her and she slid into the back seat. He followed.

"Guten abend," the driver greeted. "Du gehst zum Fontenay?" he confirmed.

"Ja," Logan answered, before turning his attention back to Rory.

"You speak German?" Rory asked.

"A bit. A very, very, tiny bit," he told her, settling into the seat.

"Well, it's sexy," she grinned at him.

"First of all, it was one word. Second, there's nothing sexy about German," Logan laughed. "But I appreciate you lying to me."

"Foreign languages are always sexy," she replied snuggling into his side and kissing his jawbone.

"I'll keep that in mind." His hand went back to her leg, even higher than it had been at the bar. "It's officially filed under 'things that turn Rory Gilmore on.'"

She moaned at the contact and he felt her legs relax, her knees falling open. They'd done this before, on more than one occasion, but it had always been in a town car or a limo, with a partition to guard them.

He glanced up, noting the eyes of the driver in the rearview mirror. The driver smirked, then looked forward again, turning the volume of the radio up. This ride was going to have a serious effect on his Uber rating; he just wasn't sure which way it would go.

He let his hand drift further up, his fingers flitting over the skin of her inner thigh.

"How big is that file?" she whispered into his ear, "because you're really good at this." She went on placing kisses along his neck and jawline.

"I remember a few things," he replied with confidence. His fingers reached their destination, frolicking teasingly at the hem of her panties.

"Please, Logan," she begged, muffling the words in the crook of his neck. He slipped beneath the fabric, coming into contact with her wet folds. He stroked her a couple of times before pulling away.

The loss of contact caused her to whimper.

"Sorry, Ace," he smirked, whispering in her ear, "but we better save the big finish for the hotel room. If I remember correctly, you were never any good at biting your tongue."

He took the hand that had been at her center and brought it to her mouth, running his moistened fingers over her lips. He leaned in for a kiss, tasting her. They continued to kiss for a few minutes more until he felt the car come to a stop.

"Wir sind da," The driver told him with barely concealed amusement.

"Danke," Logan replied, meeting the driver's eyes in the mirror once more. He opened the door and slipped out of the car, pulling Rory behind him.

They made their way to the elevators, holding hands but otherwise not touching. Once inside the lift, Logan pushed her up against the wall and plastered his lips to hers once more. She lifted her leg, wrapping it around him and trying to pull him closer as she thrust her hips into his. A few seconds in, Logan felt his phone ding in his pocket and he knew exactly what the notification was. "One second," he said, pulling back but placing another quick peck on her lips.

"What are you doing?" she asked frustratedly.

"Tipping our driver." Logan smirked as his fingers slid over the screen of his iPhone.

"Oh god," Rory moaned, her face turning bright red.

Logan laughed. "Forgot he could see us, huh?" She buried her face in his chest and he wrapped his arms around her. The elevator came to a stop, the doors sliding open. "This is us, Ace,"

They walked down the hall to his hotel room and he let them in. Before the door could even close, they were kissing again. Her one hand pressed into his chest, the other slid up his neck to run through his hair.

They quickly divested each other of their coats.

"Have I mentioned that I like your dress?" he whispered.

"It's my lucky dress," she replied breathlessly between kisses.

"It definitely is tonight." He started undoing the buttons, kissing down her chest as the fabric fell open, exposing her alabaster skin. He reached the belt and with a flick it was open. He pushed the material off her shoulders and the dress pooled to the floor.

She pushed his suit jacket off and loosened his tie, which he then pulled over his head. She tugged his shirt from his pants while he started on the buttons. The shirt was off in record time. Rory undid his belt buckle, popping the button of his pants and drawing the zipper down slowly, letting her hand stroke his hardness. She pushed his pants, along with his boxer briefs, down his legs, falling to her knees.

His eyes went wide as he looked down at her. She'd given him blow jobs before, plenty of them considering how long they were together, but it was never her favorite thing. It was an act usually reserved for special occasions like birthdays or acing an exam she'd coerced him into studying for. Academic achievement was always a big turn on for her. It may have been the only reason he graduated.

She grabbed his balls with one hand, giving them a gentle squeeze, while the other hand grasped his cock, guiding it to her mouth. She flicked her tongue over the head and his hips bucked forward. "Ace," he groaned, his fingers lacing through her hair. The feel of her mouth on him was indescribably amazing. She licked and sucked for a few more minutes before he pulled her away. After all this time, the only place he wanted to come was inside her.

"Get on the bed," he instructed.

She smiled up at him. "I like it when you're bossy."

Logan scoffed. "Since when."

She shrugged. "Since right now." She got onto the bed, laying back against the pillows. Logan wasted no time in stripping her of her panties. They nearly ripped in his haste. He climbed onto the bed between her legs, spreading them, using his knee to hold her open. He pushed two fingers into her and her hips rose up. "Fuck, Logan."

He pumped his fingers inside her, letting his thumb caress her clit. She writhed under his ministrations. A part of him wanted to bury his face between her legs and devour her, but the view from where he sat was just too good. There was only one thing that could make it better.

He slowed his fingers, allowing her to regain some of her senses. "Take off your bra."

She arched up, reaching behind her. She fumbled for a moment, trying to get her fingers to do what she wanted. Finally, the clasp released and he saw the material come undone. She ripped the bra off letting him see all of her. He rewarded her by redoubling his efforts down below.

He reached his free hand forward to palm her newly exposed breast. He massaged it, running his thumb over her erect nipple. She was getting close. He leaned over to take her other mound his mouth, sucking at her tit. Her hips were bucking more furiously than ever and her muscles were clenching. She was close. He bit down on her nipple and she came undone. As she contracted around his fingers, he laved his tongue over her to soothe the sting from his bite. She finally stopped moving and he slipped off the bed.

"Where are you going?" She pushed herself up on her forearms to look at him.

"I'm just getting a condom, Ace," he assured her. He had a box in his suitcase. He was planning a stop over in Paris on his way home. He felt the guilt rise up again, but one look back at the gorgeous woman in the bed and he pushed all other thoughts away.

He made it back to her, foil packet in hand.

"Let me," she said, sitting up to grab the condom. She shifted her weight, rolling over and toppling him to the bed. She climbed on top, straddling him.

"Now who's the boss?" he asked her with a laugh.

"I like to take turns," she purred, bending down to engage in a bruising kiss.

She lowered herself, rubbing her core against his swollen cock. "Fuck," he cursed.

She started crawling down him, placing wet kisses all along his chest as she went. Stopping where his his hip bone jutted out, she nipped and licked the skin. His hips thrust forward.

Finally, she reached his dick. She took it in her hands, stroking his length and taking the tip into her mouth.

"Ace, I need..." He strained. He needed to be inside her.

"I know," she promised, looking up at him, her eyes heady with lust. Ripping the condom package open, she deftly rolled it over his erection. She pushed herself back up so she was hovering over him before taking him in her hands and guiding herself onto him.

She felt amazing; warm and tight. His eyes squeezed shut for a moment, overwhelmed by the pleasure, but he forced them back open. Her hands were on his shoulders for leverage, her blue eyes staring right into his as she rode him. He'd missed those eyes. They were like a portal to another universe.

"You're just as beautiful as I remember," he breathed out.

"That's funny, because age has not done you any favors," she smirked, running one of her hands over his eight-pack. You're kind of out of shape." She did a Kegel, squeezing him tightly.

He grunted, flipping them over. "I'll show you out of shape," he growled.

He sat back on his knees, taking her leg and draping it over his shoulder. Using the extra leverage, he pushed into her even deeper.

"Oh, god," she moaned.

He thrust again, and again. Her breathing was getting ragged. He reached between her legs, putting pressure in just the right place, and she exploded. The contraction of her muscles did him in and he came hard, as she rode out the wave of bliss. He dropped her leg and leaned forward to give her a kiss before rolling off of her.

It took a moment before he could even find the energy to rid himself of the condom. The trash can was all the way across the room. "I'll take it," she said, reading his mind. "I have to pee anyway."

She sat up, reaching down to roll the condom off him. He felt himself respond to her touch, even though he in no way was ready for another round.

He watched her as she strode naked across the room. She was still the same Rory in so many ways, but she was different too. She was so much more confident in her body and her sexuality. He hated to think who'd helped her get that way.

She returned after a couple minutes, getting back in bed and snuggling under the covers with him.

"That was good," she said, rolling halfway on top of him. Her head was on his shoulder, her leg draped over his, her breast pressing into his chest.

"It was amazing," he amended. They were silent for a bit, Rory's fingers dancing lazily over his bare chest. Logan wanted to stay in this moment forever, but now that he'd had his release, the guilt was bubbling up again.

"Ace," he broke the silence.

"Hmm?" she answered sleepily.

"I'm seeing someone."

She opened her eyes and looked up at him.

"So am I," she admitted as though it were no big deal. As though they both hadn't just betrayed someone they care about.

"So, this was just...a one time thing? Unfinished business?"

She shrugged her shoulders. "We're here all week," she replied.

"So we're just supposed to..." She silenced him with a kiss.

"This is...Vegas," she answered when she pulled away.

"Actually, it's Hamburg," he teased.

"Oh, so that's why I couldn't find any casinos," she mockingly replied.

"Why? Were you looking for a little action at the craps tables?"

"Nope," she grinned, placing an open mouth kiss over his collar bone. "Just looking to get lucky."

"Well then, it's a good thing you wore your lucky dress."

They fell silent again. After a minute, Rory sighed. "What happens in Vegas, stays in Vegas," she clarified. "We enjoy our time together while we're here, and when we're gone we don't think about it."

"So...it's just a fling? We spend the week together and then we go our separate ways? Go back to our someone elses and never see each other again?"

"I didn't say that."

He narrowed his eyes in confusion. "I don't get it."

"Well," she explained, propping herself up to look at him. "People can go to Vegas more than once. I mean, I travel a lot for work and I have some potential stories lined up in London. If we happened to be in the same city at the same time again..."

He stared at her, a million thoughts and emotions swirling through his head. She was serious. She wanted to just...be together when they were together. How would that even work? And what about Odette? He could have a future with her. He couldn't give that up for what amounted to a series of mini flings. But this night had awoken something in him. Some long-lost part of himself. Spontaneous, carefree...alive. And he couldn't give that up either.

"Vegas..." he repeated, trying the word on for size.

"Mmm hmm," she murmured as she lowered herself back into his embrace. With his arms around her, the last of his reservations disappeared. He was going to hell for this, but if Rory was with him for the trip, he decided, he'd gladly accept his fate.

"I guess this is Vegas."