RATING: PG-13 but edging upwards.

SPOILERS: Up to and including "But Not As Cute as Pushkin"

DISCLAIMER: Not mine. All characters are property of ASP and the WB.

NOTES: Yay. I'm glad people are liking this. Chapter title ganked from "Hollywood Kids" by The Thrills. Thanks to Psychotic Scribbler for the beta and the feedback. Next chapter might be delayed a little. I've been working on a Finn/Rory fic off and on and it's been nagging for attention lately.

Seven: So Let's Party, Dustin Hoffman

Rory gave her name to a very large, mildly scary and tattooed man who was stationed at the back door. He nodded curtly, mumbled, "Rory Gilmore, plus three," and then proceeded to actually count them, before allowing them entrance.

The dressing room the band had been provided with could kindly be described as 'modest.' There was a small table in the corner spread with some food (sandwiches, probably brought along by Gil, to which Finn was currently helping himself) and bottled water. It had dozens of messages scratched into it. The single couch was threadbare and stained in several places, with substances that none of them cared to examine further. There was no other furniture and still the room was cramped; the band was meeting in one corner, finalizing a set list, apparently. Paris and Colin were standing in the corner opposite, seemingly ignoring each other. Lane waved at Rory as they entered, and then gestured that they'd be a minute. Rory, along with Stephanie and Logan, made their way over to Colin and Paris.

"I came, I saw, I'll be bathing for days. Can I go now, Rory?"

Rory rolled her eyes, "Paris, it's not that bad."

"You only say that because you've yet to see the bathrooms."

"Remember what Terrence said…"

Paris looked ready to stomp her foot, "Fine. Two hours. Then I'm leaving."

"Very gracious of you. I hope the drive here was uneventful?"

"Mostly," Colin answered, "Those two," he gestured to Lane and Finn, "yammered on like my maiden great aunts at a garden party. Paris and I attempted to discuss, what was it again?"

"Nietzsche, Nicole Kidman, and The Origin of the Species."

"And?" Logan asked.

"Disagreed on all counts."

Rory nodded, understanding Colin's frantic call for backup. Paris didn't take too kindly to being disagreed with. "Well, you're alive."

"That's something," Colin agreed.

Later, Rory decided that Paris was right about the bathrooms. Lane had dragged her into one so she could pack on the stage makeup. She covered a section of the counter with paper towels and sat down on it. "So what do you think of Finn?"

"I think someone dropped him on his head as a baby."

"Several times."

"Zach hated him instantly."

"You sound pleased."

"I am. It's nice to know I can make him jealous. Is that twisted?"

"A little," Rory admitted.

Lane sighed, "Zach's just so… wanted. I mean, he flips his hair and half the girls in the audience swoon. And some of those girls… I feel like I don't compete."

Rory hopped down from the counter and took Lane by the shoulders, "First of all, no maligning your own hotness. You rock a pair of fishnets better than anyone I know. Second of all, I've known you forever and trust me, the probability of one of those girls being as cool as you? Practically none."

"Thanks for the pep talk, coach."

"Just doing my job," she sat back down and handed Lane the eyeliner, "Out of curiosity, should Zach be jealous?"

"No. Finn's on the mental friend list, definitely. He'd drive me insane, otherwise."

"I think it would take a special person to date Finn."

"And Logan?"

"What about Logan?"

"What kind of person would date Logan?"

"Not the me kind of person, if that's what you're getting at."

"You always were the brightest crayon in the box."

"Lane."

"Rory."

"Logan is a friend type person. That's all."

"Liar, liar, pants on fire."

Rory pouted, "I don't know what to do."

"Kiss the boy."

"What? No."

"You've kissed boys before. See: Mariano, Jess. Sookie's wedding," Lane paused, "probably a bad example."

"Probably."

"But you're older now. You're unattached now."

"True."

"Take a chance, Rory. If there's anything I've learned in my meager experience with the opposite sex it's that. I'm almost positive you won't regret it."

"You think?"

"I think. Ooh! The band's starting. Zach knows a guy who knows the bassist. Apparently they're good."

"All right, let's go. I'll angst later."

Generally, Logan was supremely confident in his dancing ability. He could waltz and foxtrot as well as anyone. He'd moved his hips to the beat at many a trendy nightclub, in unison with many a beautiful, sultry, woman. Here, though, he was lost and pretty certain he could not dance like the crowd was dancing. Jumping, flailing and head bobbing were just not in his repertoire.

As soon as the first band had started Lane and Rory had emerged from the bathroom had made their way towards the front of the dance floor. Paris had wandered off on her own and had scrounged up a newspaper. She was now seated at a table near the back, her withering glare scaring off most who dared approach.

Finn had dragged Stephanie out to join Rory and Lane. Stephanie, also out of her element, had stood still in the middle of the crush, observing for a moment. Soon she began moving, tentatively, but before long she almost looked at home. But as a woman, and a gorgeous one at that, no one would notice bad dancing. Logan didn't have those advantages.

Colin, Logan and Marty had stood awkwardly together for the duration of about two songs before Rory had made her way over to them and tried to cajole them into joining in. Logan and Colin had firmly refused and Marty had allowed himself to be pulled away, probably realizing that dancing, and possibly looking like an idiot, were preferable to awkward silence with people he was not especially fond of. Logan was not so willing to take that risk, so unaccustomed was he to being uneasy in social situations.

The dance floor of the club was slightly lower than the rest of it, two steps leading down from the railing Logan was leaning against, affording him an excellent view of what was going on below. Rory was his primary focus, a fact he was unwilling to dwell on. Her face was flushed and her eyes sparkled. Every once in awhile, someone, usually Marty but occasionally Finn or Lane or Stephanie, would crowd close to her and say something. She would laugh, or smile and say something back. She looked happier and more carefree than he'd ever seen her before. So fixated on Rory, he barely registered Marty moving away, making the universal signal that he needed water. Nor did he notice Stephanie following.

Marty had been trying, unsuccessfully, to get the bartender's attention, for a couple of minutes when Stephanie sidled up beside him. Typically, the second the man behind the bar saw her, he was asking to take their orders. Marty ordered water; Stephanie had a tequila sunrise. Marty paid for them both.

"To show my gratitude, I'm going to give you some advice," Stephanie announced.

"Really? I met you, what, three hours ago? What are you going to advise me on?"

"Rory Gilmore."

Marty closed up visibly, "Now I definitely don't think you're qualified."

"I'm a girl and majoring in chemistry."

"So?"

"As a chemistry major, I'm qualified to tell you that you two have none. As a girl, I'm qualified to tell you that Rory thinks of you as a friend. Nothing more, nothing less and that there is absolutely any way for you to change that."

"Straight to the point."

"Additionally, I've known your competition since he wore diapers. He doesn't lose."

"I'd say thank you, but I wouldn't mean it?"

"Just trying to help. Now how about I buy you something a little stronger than water? You're far too cute to pout."

Their was a lull between the first band and Hep Alien that made talking at an almost normal level in the corner furthest from the speakers piping in a Libertine's song was possible. "Cheers, gentlemen," Finn appeared, waitress with a tray of drinks in tow, from somewhere behind Logan "this round's on me." Stephanie appeared next to him and leaned up to whisper something in Finn's ear. He grinned, pleased. Stephanie downed the drink she was holding in one go and grabbed another from the waitress's tray, "I got you two for Logan," Finn continued, "figured he'd need 'em, mate."

"Why's that?" Logan asked, suspicious.

"Dutch courage, all that," Finn replied breezily.

"Still not following, Finn. Did you toss back a couple of pre-game drinks without sharing?"

"That's beside the point," Finn deflected, and there was definitely a slight slur there.

"Which is," Stephanie cut in, "that you've been giving Rory the sex eyes since she walked into your room tonight."

"Have not," Logan protested. It sounded weak even to him.

"Tip: if you're going to lie to us, lie better."

"I hate in when you get like this."

"You hate it when I'm right and you're wrong? Newsflash, friend, that's pretty much all the time."

"I meant I hate it when you start channeling your mother."

"Ooh. Low blow," Colin commented.

Stephanie waved it off easily, "He's trying to distract me. Classic Huntzberger. Gentlemen," she held her glass aloft, "I propose a bet."

"Oh?" Colin questioned, interested.

"Two hundred bucks says Logan doesn't have the balls to make a move tonight."

"I'm standing right here, you know."

"Really? Hadn't noticed. You lack your usual presence when you're being such a sad sack."

"I'll take that bet," Colin said, before Logan could make a comeback, probably not a very nice one.

"Me too," Finn interjected, "though my money's on Miss Rory doing the making of the moves."

Logan took his drinks, "I really loathe you people right now."

Finn slung an arm around Logan playfully, "That's just the sexual frustration talking. Drink up."

Meanwhile, Rory was across the bar trying to distract Lane from her pre-performance jitters and failing miserably. Marty approached. "Hey! Will you please tell Lane she doesn't suck?"

"I've heard your rehearsal tape. You most definitely don't suck."

"Thanks. Oh! I have to check on the extra drumsticks!"

"Okay. But Lane?"

"Yeah?"

"Calm down. And breathe."

"I'll try," she took a couple of deep breaths.

"Sorry, Marty. You know rock stars, so high maintenance."

"That's okay. I just came to tell you that I'm going to head out with Paris in about a half hour. She set the stopwatch on her phone for your two hour deadline. And it's ticking down as we speak."

"Oh," Rory was confused, "Are you feeling okay."

"I feel fine."

"Paper due tomorrow?"

"Nope."

"Are you not having fun?" she tried.

"It's not that. This place is great. It's just…" he paused and seemed to struggle before coming to a decision and speaking in a rush, "I like you Rory."

"Oh. Marty, I…" Rory looked down at her feet, unsure of what to say.

"I liked you when I asked if you had a boyfriend. I liked you when I met your grandparents at the game last year."

"Marty…"

"But you don't like me."

"No! I do. Just not…"

"As more than a friend," he finished, his tone resigned.

"No. I'm sorry."

Marty shrugged, "You can't help these things, I know."

"So, now what happens?"

"I don't know. I've never done this before, either."

"I don't want you to not be my friend."

"I don't want to not be your friend either."

"So, we'll be okay?"

"Eventually. Just promise me you'll be careful with Logan," he stopped her where she would have protested, "I get it. You can't help it, right? He must have some redeeming quality for you to like him the way you do. Some tiny, tiny bearable personality trait. Hopefully."

"Marty."

"I might be a little bitter."

"I forgive you."

Marty bent down slightly and enveloped her in a hug, mildly relieved that there would be no more agonizing over what little things, such as this hug, meant. "Have a good night, Rory."

"Do you want to meet for lunch tomorrow?" she asked as he stepped away.

"Sure. Usual table."

"I'm there. Goodnight," She waved as Marty glanced backward once and disappeared into the crowd.

"We're meddling," Finn declared, watching Logan watch Rory who was watching the band.

"No. No meddling. You're a terrible meddler," Colin shot the idea down instantly.

"You wish you could meddle as well as I meddle."

"Finn, just let them be."

"But they're taking forever. And ever and ever."

Colin sighed, though he hated to admit it, Finn was right, "What did you have in mind?"

"Ha! So you admit I'm a good meddler?"

"No. I admit you're impossible to stop from meddling. I might as well be privy to the plan so I can secure an escape route. Or a fire extinguisher. Passports and money, if need be."

"Steph's the pyro, not me. And I'm pretty sure there'll be no need to leave the country. This time."

"You were explaining the plan…"

"Oh, right-o. First step's done already."

"Why am I not surprised?"

"Steph dispatched the bartender."

"Huh. Been wondering where he went."

"He and the little angry one left awhile ago."

"Step two: get them near each other. Step three: wait to see who wins the bet."

"That's barely meddling at all."

"Then what were you so worried about?"

"I figured you and Steph had cooked up a plan to stuff them into the trunk of Rory's car and drive them off a bridge, or something."

"They can't get to know one another in the biblical sense if they're dead, Colin."

"I know that. I just wasn't sure if you knew that."

"Thank you, New Haven!" the sweaty blond guy yelled, wrapping up the set.

"Initiating step two, in 5, 4, 3, 2, and 1. Cover me, I'm going in." Finn was most definitely passing tipsy and approaching sloshed.

"Whatever."

Lane's jitters were completely pointless because Hep Alien played an awesome show. Rory had danced and screamed and made punk rock hand symbols until she was pretty sure Lane was embarrassed to have her in the crowd. But then, wasn't that what friends were for?

Afterwards, Lane was tired and sweaty and happy. The guy who booked them had approached Brian about booking them again, so she forgot to reprimand Rory about acting cool. "Who's a rock star?" Rory teased, bumping her hip into Lane's.

"I am."

"I can't hear you, Josie."

"Well I'm not saying it any louder, Val."

"Nice set."

"Thanks. For coming, too. And bringing your friends."

"They didn't scare you off rich people forever?"

"Nope. I like being included in your new life."

"You're always welcome."

"I'll hold you to that."

Finn loped up to them, interrupting their sappy moment. "Lane-y, darling! Will you bear my children?"

Lane pretended to give the question serious consideration, "No."

"I'm crushed. Do you have a C.D?"

"Yep, hold on," Lane dropped to the floor and dug through a bag, coming up with a jewel case, "here. On the house."

"Merci. Don't be a stranger, now," he kissed her, a loud smacking, obviously platonic kiss (though Zach glowered visibly). "Rory, Steph Colin and I are pestering the bartender. We lost track of Logan. Could you hunt him down? None of us are up to walking in straight lines at the moment."

"Sure."

"You're a doll," Funnily enough, when he walked away, he seemed to have no trouble.

Rory turned to Lane, "Seems as though I've been given a mission."

"I should help pack up. We still have to drive back to Stars Hollow."

Rory winced, "Be careful."

Lane rolled her eyes, "Yes, mom."

"Quiet, you. I'll be home on Sunday. Mommy-daughter day. Are you working?"

"Sure am."

"Well than I'll see you then. No mommy-daughter day is complete without Luke's."

Logan was easy enough to find. She spotted him coming out of the bathroom almost immediately. She made her way over to him, "Howdy, stranger."

"Ace, is that you? I'd forgotten what you looked like."

"In the flesh. Sorry for leaving you to fend for yourself. It seems I inherited none of my grandmother's flair for entertaining."

He waved off her apology, "Don't worry about it. You looked like you were having fun."

"I did. It's nice to just forget about deadlines and studying for a night."

"That's what I keep telling you."

"Do you always have to be right?"

"Yes."

Rory laughed, at least he admitted it. "Thanks for coming, Logan."

"Thanks for inviting me. Us. I had a pretty good time."

"You sound surprised."

"Probably because I am surprised. I might even dip into Finn's music collection."

"I'm so proud."

"So then why'd you agree to come, if you thought it would be torturous?"

"In Omnia Paratus."

"Ready for anything?"

"People apply the 'fancy catchphrase' in different ways, you see."

"Ah," Rory feigned sage understanding, "and how do you apply it?"

"Someday, I want to be able to look back and realize that I missed nothing. I want to have experienced everything that's worth experiencing. So when opportunity knocks…"

"You invite 'em in for pie?"

"Basically, so that's why I'm thanking you. I had many a new experience tonight."

"Not all experiences are worth having, you know."

"I know. Believe me, I know. But I'm not about to miss the good ones by being afraid of the bad ones."

Rory was struck by his words, though he hadn't meant them as a dig. She did that. She bypassed the potentially amazing things to protect herself, especially when it came to loving people. In sixty or so years, what would she regret? "You're braver than I am, Logan Huntzberger."

He tilted his head to the side, watching her closely, "You sell yourself short."

"Somehow, I don't think so. I flee instead of fighting."

"The first sign to overcoming something…"

"Is admitting you have a problem. Thank you for the psychobabble."

"I'm only trying to help."

An idea popped into Rory's head. An impulsive, un-Rory like idea. And she eyed him speculatively, a fizz of excitement building in her. Could she do it?

Logan waited for her reply and grew puzzled when none was forthcoming. His eyes widened, then hastily shut as she stepped forward, moving faster than he'd ever seen her, and covered his lips with her own. She was still moving and he took two short steps backward, until his shoulders hit the solid, grounding surface of a wall. One of her hands was braced on his shoulder, the other coming to rest on his side, under his jacket, her fist twisting his shirt, urging him closer. His mind was blank save for a shocked, repeating, expletive. Well honed instincts drove his body's response. He'd experienced chemistry and lust before but never like this. His hands reached out, slipped down the cool material at her sides and clutched at her hips. She kissed him frenetically, demandingly, which he hadn't expected, though when her tongue darted along the seam of his lips, he was more than happy to part them and kiss her back ardently, using lips and tongue and teeth until she pushed herself away from him, gasping for air.

She didn't move far, though, surprising both him and herself. She brought a hand, shaking only slightly, up to his face and used her thumb to wipe away a swear of lip-gloss she'd left behind. Logan's eyes bore into hers as he opened his mouth, sucking her thumb slightly inward. "Mmm. Strawberry?" He watched her eyes darken and her pupils dilate with a smug satisfaction.

"Raspberry, I think," her voice was breathy and cracked and unlike what she'd come to expect from herself.

"Nice," he used his hands, still situated on her hips, and tugged her into him again. He allowed his lips to wander, leisurely, along her jaw, before kissing her, finally. He set the pace this time, slow, seductive, almost sweet. Rory's head spun. When his lips disengaged from hers, he whispered, "I think we should go."

"Okay. Where is everyone?"

"I don't care."

"Logan…"

"Marty left with Paris awhile ago.

"I know."

"Finn, Colin and Stephanie can find their own way home."

"We can't just ditch your friends."

"We can and we will," Logan's eyes scanned the emptying bar, finally finding Colin. Colin raised two fingers in a mocking salute. Logan waved back, "they'll take a cab." He laced his fingers with hers, "Ready?"

"Lead the way," Logan didn't have to be told twice. At a fast clip, they moved through the closest exit, hastily putting on outerwear on the way, and, with some difficulty, found the car. Logan led her to the driver's side and she unlocked the door. He backed her against it before she could open it, kissing her lips briefly, before moving to her neck, just below her ear.

Rory fought back a moan, dimly aware that people were watching, as her head lolled to one side "We have to slow down."

"Don't," his teeth scraped gently over her skin, "want to."

The problem, it seemed, was that neither did she. "Logan," her hands reached down to still his, which were starting to wander into her open jacket. He pulled back to look at her, sensing she was serious, "I'm not going to have sex with you tonight."

"I didn't think you were," Logan assured her.

"Good. Now get in the car."

Colin slid next to Stephanie at the bar, the bartender having just placed a fresh drink in front of her, her last of the night as they'd be heading home soon, and handed him a ten before she could. Stephanie glanced his way, "Thanks, Colin."

"Well, it's looking like you're going to lose that bet you made," he gestured to the other side of the bar where Logan and Rory were standing closer together than was strictly necessary.

"I know."

"You know?"

Steph shook her head, "Colin, think. How often have you seen me make bets?"

"Often?"

"Exactly, two hundred dollars is child's play. But you know Logan. If you tell him he can't do something, he'll do it just to spite you."

"So you're playing matchmaker?"

"Kind of. Oh, ew. I really am my mother."

"Stephanie, you have blue hair. And your shirt is being held together by shoelaces. And you'd never put a dog in a purse."

"Ha! Of course not. If I'm going to drop that kind of money on an accessory, no way anything is going to be shedding in it. Wait, look!"

She gestured over to Rory and Logan just in time for Colin to see Rory push

Logan against the wall and kiss him, "Damn it."

"Finn won."

"I hate it when Finn wins."

"You probably should have saved your money just now."

"Probably," he answered absently, eyes still on the couple across the room.

"I'll admit I'm slightly impressed with the Reporter girl," her eyes widened as the couple continued, "enviable lung capacity."

Colin realized they were being slightly pervy, "We should probably look away now." Just then, Logan pulled away and looked around. Colin caught his eye. "Uh-oh."

"What?"

"Looks like we'll need to find an alternate ride home."

"Let's make Finn pay for the taxi."

"I enjoy the way your mind works."

Next Chapter: The obligatory Rory freak out and Logan sends envoys of goodwill.