"Rory, wait."

Rory froze. The leftover smile and warmth from the conciliatory embrace with her father wicked out of her body in a rush, leaving her cold, confused and uncertain as she stared at the welcome vision of her car and contemplated escape. The voice in her head was screaming a litany of advice; go, run, dive headfirst into that car like it's the General Lee and you're Luke Duke with Roscoe P. Coltrane hot on your heels. It was a crying shame that her feet weren't on speaking terms with the voice in her head.

"Please." She could feel him staring at her back, pleading silently with his eyes as his voice echoed in adjuration.

The edge of her car keys bit into her palm, cold and sharp and disconcertingly real. Her body tensed as thoughts fell, scattering around her like a handful of marbles hitting the icy ground and she saw endings. She pictured Humphrey Bogart watching from cold black tarmac with resigned eyes as the woman he loved climbed into a plane with another man, she watched a look between a princess and a reporter that said more eloquently than words that they both accepted the hard truth that there was no future for them and she heard Gregory Peck's hollow footsteps on marble as the camera panned to show a room that was horrible in its beautiful emptiness. All she needed now was a symphony and the visual could work. A couple on a lonely sidewalk, winter sapped trees curling in the background in sparsely elegant mockery of life and feet of empty echoing space between his outstretched hand an her rigidly turned back.

Before she could add the soundtrack real life interrupted the pure lines of art and its voice was desperate, an eloquent appeal in three short words "Please don't go."

She stayed, she wasn't married to a resistance leader and he wasn't an embittered, cynical expatriate with golden memories of Paris and it wasn't that kind of story. Not yet anyway.

Logan continued his hurried monologue "Give me sixty seconds, that's all I ask. One minute to explain or beg or grovel or whatever it takes to get you to listen to me."

She stared down at her arms crossed tight across her abdomen, holding everything in and her voice was startlingly calm when she spoke. "I'm listening."

"I'm not sorry."

Incredulity thawed her muscles in a hurry and she pivoted towards him, helpless humor and disbelief warring in her mouth before sarcasm trumped them both "Boy, you really suck at this groveling thing."

The look of self-directed horror stamped across his features would have been comical in another situation and she watched nearly bemused as he scrubbed a hand through blonde hair already disheveled past rakishly handsome and closed his eyes his voice barely above a hoarse epithet "Oh hell, that didn't come out right." Self-recrimination ripped the edges of his words raw but she didn't let it budge her.

"I don't know what the hell is wrong with me. I'm usually good at this but I'm really making a mess of it today."

She gripped her elbows tighter in defense, if he was looking for exculpation he wasn't going to get it from her. She tried not to admit that her death grip on the ball of anger still warm in her stomach had slipped a little at his tone, so miserably disgruntled that it begged for a sympathy pang.

She shook her herself mentally and gave herself a silent lecture on the finer points of not being a pushover. She had every right to be angry, every right to be upset, she deserved an explanation and she had every right to repudiate said explanation if it wasn't a damn good one. She couldn't let that little boy lost look get to her, it was trite and overplayed, he'd probably used the same act on a hundred other girls that he kept hidden from his family. That last thought kicked her in the gut and she felt the fire of anger burn a little brighter. She snatched at the edges of her cloak of indignation, trying to pull it tighter so that it would protect her from the devastating apology in his eyes and reign in the treacherous part of her that wanted to throw indignation to the wind and try for reconciliation.

Sure it was a little hypocritical to hold Logan personally responsible for the fact that his father made Mussolini seem warm and cuddly but there were plenty of other things that he clearly held the blame for in this situation. There was no need for him to know just yet that two hours of conversation with her dad and untold amounts of grease had dulled the angry edges a bit. She needed a little time and space to put it all into perspective before she doled out any clemency.

She'd come to this very reasonable decision when he started speaking again "Look I know this isn't going to come out right but I can't lie to you, I regret the whole mess today but I'm still not sorry about not telling my father about us sooner."

She suddenly had a rather violent wish for a magical power that would allow her to render people mute with the flick of a wand. If she could just tie his tongue in a knot for a few minutes to keep him quiet she might even be able to get around to forgiving him sometime this decade.

She gave him a narrow eyed look, her voice was laced with disgust directed at both of them "If you think that was an apology you are in dreadful need of a dictionary." She sighed when he looked ready to retort, and her words cut off any attempt at a witty twisted definition that would undoubtedly make her want to laugh even while she was throttling him "Look Logan, it's been a weird, confusing day and I'd rather not do this right now. I want to forget this whole thing, I really do but it sort of feels like I just stood in the path of an avalanche and I need a little time to dig myself out and figure out which way is up and you standing here telling me how not sorry you are is really not helping."

"I understand you're upset but I can't let you leave until you listen to me, just give me a chance to explain." Everything in his face radiated sincerity imploring her to hear him out and Rory thought that upset didn't really seem like an adequate word.

She pulled her arms tighter against her chest to ward off his cajoling tone, channeling Lorelai's bad ass, woman of steel attitude "I can leave any time I want, you have no say in the matter. I mean what are you going to do if I try? Are you going to hit me with a flying tackle or maybe a Karate chop, oh wait I know, you'll get me with the infamous Vulcan death grip, I bet you've got that one perfected after all your misadventures in third world countries."

He didn't smile; he just blinked rapidly at her, an owl with an eye tick. She looked pointedly at her watch "You've got forty seconds so this had better be good, one more false start and I'll have to disqualify you." She gave him a regretful half smile "Nothing I can do about that, it's in the international rules you know."

Logan gave her a truly incredulous look, eyes wide, chin on the floor, hand trapped halfway into blonde tufts of hair, boy interrupted in the flesh. "You're making a joke? My father patronized you, then dismissed you like a common busboy and I just stood there like an idle spectator at the Coliseum helpless to stop the slaughter and you think this is funny?"

She shrugged a little self consciously regretting the hereditary urge to make light

"It's what Gilmore's do. It rains, it pours, your father ditches your mother at her best friend's wedding to take care of his pregnant girlfriend, your old boyfriend skips town without so much as Dear John letter, you meet your new boyfriend's father and he looks at you like you might be a Las Vegas show girl who has conned his son into marriage during a drug induced night of debauchery and you make a joke. You laugh, because the alternative is to cry and scream and rail at the world and that is something that Gilmore's NEVER do. So yes, I suspect that you father has blood like ice in his veins and that you are terminally selfish or worse for not telling him about me. And yes, I'm a tad bit, what was the word you used, oh right, UPSET, but I made a joke anyway. It's what we do, it's how we survive." She gave him an impatient look "Now were you going to get around to the groveling part soon or are we going to discuss coping strategies for the rest of your twenty seconds?"

He gave her look that bordered on awestruck "Have I ever told you that you are amazing? Bizarre and incomprehensible but amazing."

She rolled her eyes and re-crossed her arms, determined not to give too much ground that hadn't been earned "It would have been better if you'd told your father that but at least it's a start."

He went back to the beleaguered and sorrowful little boy blue at the mention of his transgression "Look Rory, I know it sounds horrible but I'm just not sorry about keeping you a secret from my family. I've tried, but I can't do sorry, not about this."

She would have rolled her eyes but it seemed redundant at this point so she settled for a resigned sigh and held up a hand to stop him from saying anything else exasperating "Look Logan, we're not getting anywhere by continuing this conversation. You're speaking in Linear A but there is no Phaistos Disk available to make sense of it so it all just sounds like gobbledy gook and right now I've pretty much hit my quota on gobbledy gook."

He gave her a strange look "Maybe amazing isn't quite the right descriptor for you."

"I'll get you a thesaurus for Christmas to go with your new dictionary, " She shook her head in defeat "but right now I'm going home to try to make some sense of this whole indecipherable day and you are going to let me go without a fight because you're smart enough to realize that I'm going to be a lot more reasonable about the whole I'm not sorry thing after I've eaten my weight in mallomars and reread Wuthering Heights for the four hundred and twenty seventh time. "

Logan raised an eyebrow in question "Am I Heathcliff or Edgar?"

"Neither. It's not about you specifically, it's a generic reminder that vendetta's aren't all they are cracked up to be. I'll cap that off with a viewing of the Godfather trilogy and then in a couple of days I'll call you and you will explain your side and I'll probably decide that forgiveness is a much better idea than having you strangled with piano wire." She was saying all this in a very reasonable tone but Logan stopped listening and started frowning around about the second sentence in.

"A couple of days?" he said in an incredulous tone that he instantly regretted when she frowned at him.

"Need I remind you that you're not exactly in a bargaining position? I'm not asking for anything unreasonable just a little space. I think you owe me that much."

He back pedaled frantically at her testy tone "Okay, you're right, I can do space. Just call me Edwin Aldren."

"Way to be humble Buzz." Her tone was sardonic as she turned towards her car but his voice stopped her again.

His tone was worried "How about a compromise? I'll call you... tomorrow."

"Don't push your luck Huntzberger. I said I'd call, I said I'd probably forgive you, that's the best you're going to get right now." Her tone was final and he let her go this time.

She got in the car fast, before she could second guess herself, before he could wheedle her into another twenty minutes of circuitous conversation that she was way too mixed up to make sense of right now. She adjusted her rearview mirror and saw his face and made herself reach over and lock the door so that the siren song of his eyes couldn't convince her to do something foolish like climb back out of the car and kiss him.

She pulled out of the parking lot and dialed her mother wanting someone to talk her off the ledge and distract her from replaying the conversation in her head until it wore a rut in her brain. She'd already half forgiven him but that didn't mean she was just going to role over and play dead, trust had to have a higher price than a pair of cafe au lait eyes brimming with mea culpa and a titillating knowledge of literature, otherwise she was just another sellout.

It was half past three on a random Tuesday in the tail end of December. Pale grey light filtered in through the windows and every time the door opened small icy flurries of snow escaped the wintry air outside and fell into blissful puddled repose at the feet of the stairs where Lorelai stood surveying her small kingdom.

Everything was going well. Better than well actually. So there was really no reason for her to be standing in the hallway surveying anything, no reason for her to be perched at the end of the satiny smooth stair rail letting her skin prickle with icy goose bumps every time the heavy door swung inward. She should be in her nice warm office attending to the pile of invoices that was looking more like the leaning Tower of Pisa with every minute that she stood out here listening to Michel's high pitched contralto of complaint about dust ruffle ironing schedules and Sookie's off-pitch rendition of something from the Into the Woods score accompanied by the startled admonitions of her assistants as they played a rousing game of catch the hand towel before it hits the flames, and underneath it all the percussive rat a tat tat of Tom hammering an errant cedar shingle back on to the roof after it had blown off in the rain storm over the weekend.

It was a waste of time standing out here when nothing was overtly out of the ordinary at the Dragonfly Inn. Except she was nervous and she couldn't quite explain why. It was too quiet, to calm, too ordinary and that made it just the kind of day where something nasty and unexpected chose to leap out and ambush you and inevitably you ended up cleaning blood off the nice bland aesthetically pleasing wallpaper.

This wasn't a logic thing, it was just one of those things you knew, like the fact that any date that started with an orchid corsage was bound to be a disappointment, or the surety that situations that involved drinking tequila always ended badly or the certitude that a man that owned any album by Enya just wasn't the right match for a girl who loved Led Zepplin and wanted to marry David Bowie. This knowledge just was and so was the verity that any day when you got complacent and happy and called your life normal there was bound to be some casualties. She'd been wrong so far today but that meant very little, the day wasn't over yet.

She tried to pinpoint the source of the persistent niggling worry. Maybe it was concern for Rory and her lunch with Christopher. Maybe it was worry about wedding plans. Or maybe she was just nuts. She shook her head and vowed to get weird premonitions out of her head and focus on the real things that needed to be dealt with rather than conjuring enemies or problems out of thin air.

Assuring herself that she was just imaging the hair on her arms standing on end she went back to her desk and picked up the linen invoices for the fifth time but only moments later she was back to staring out the door again in a distracted state. Something was coming, something... she looked up and sucked in a breath as she heard a familar voice carrying in from the reception area.

She rose from her desk so fast that the invoices on the edge fanned back with the rush of air and muttered to herself "Something wicked this way comes." Then she snorted as she heard Michel's voice reply to a query "And he looked at me like I was crazy. Serves him right that he has to be on desk duty when the Wicked Witch shows up."

She heard another question volleyed in snappish tones and went to save him despite deserved punishments, because whining and strange looks didn't really merit evisceration even if it was Michel. Straightening her indigo jacket she marched towards the front desk of her Inn with a regimented step and her battle face on.

She stopped just inside the entrance portico and schooled her features to a welcoming albeit it frosty smile and addressed her guest. "Hello Mother."

Were she someone other than Emily Gilmore she might have started in surprise but Emily Gilmore didn't do surprise so she compensated with a deliberately rigid posture as she turned and pasted a cold smile on her face. "Hello Lorelai. I was in the area so I thought I would drop by and see if you might have time for a late lunch."

Lorelai's voice was vintage elder Gilmore, emulated then adopted just for such emotionless occasions and the censure was almost palpable. "I'm rather busy with that whole pesky little running an Inn thing. Too bad you didn't call before you just happened to wander on down to our neck of the woods, I could have penciled you in."

Emily didn't play games that she had invented so she ignored the intentional slap of disapproval and went on smoothly "A cup of coffee then, I'm sure you have time for a cup of coffee, or do you only make time for that with your boyfriend?"

Lorelai's smile tightened a fraction and she weighed her options taking in the mulish look on her mother's face and knowing that she wasn't going to find a painless way out of the impending conversation and delaying it would only make it worse. "Well since you asked so nicely. I suppose I have ten minutes that I can spare." She turned to the man behind the desk who had been watching with a rapt expression "Michel, would you please get us a pot of coffee and two cups. We'll be in the dining room. Just check for flying insults before you venture in, we wouldn't want any innocent bystanders getting hurt in the crossfire." she saw her mother's face go tight at this jibe and smiled inwardly. Score one for Lorelai.

Michel looked like he would rather slit his own wrists than walk out of this room but he went grudgingly when Lorelai gave him a glare that was meant to maim.

She turned towards the dining room with smooth controlled movements that gave the impression that she was carefully avoiding violence and gestured towards an empty table "After you mother." Emily had never heard the address of mother sound more like an expletive.

Silence reigned until they sat and Michel appeared to place the coffee on the table and then glanced at both women, clearly loathe to exit the room even after he had accomplished his task. A warning look from Lorelai had him scurrying for the desk where she had no doubt he would eavesdrop on every word but at least he would be out of danger's way should verbal daggers or china start to fly.

Lorelai poured, with hard eyes and pursed lips. Then she stared at her own full cup for what seemed like an eternity before she looked up and met her mother's eyes "What do you want mother?" This time it sounded like a sobriquet for Satan's handmaiden.

The tone stung but she followed Lorelai's lead and got straight to the point. "I want you to come to the New Year's Eve party next Saturday and I want my Friday night dinners back."

"Well while we're wishing for impossible things. I want a billion dollars and peace on earth." Lorelai toyed with the handle of her cup and her tone was dry "I think we're both going to be disappointed. At least you have years of practice." She dropped a lump of sugar in to her coffee and began to stir with the same degree of deliberation that a neurosurgeon might employ on a craniotomy.

Emily didn't flinch away from the double-edged comment, flinching was for people with less creativity, she had other ways of returning the parry. Her retort was stiff and un-amused "I don't appreciate you making this one of you jokes Lorelai. You and Rory made a bargain with us and I expect you to keep it."

Lorelai shrugged and took a sip of her coffee "Actually Rory made a bargain with you. So if that's all you came to say you've wasted a trip. Where Rory does or does not choose to spend her Friday nights really isn't up to me anymore. I've done my part. I'm not standing in her way. Rory is an adult and I am no longer her proxy. If you want to argue with her decisions I suggest you take it up with her and let me get back to work."

Emily scoffed in cold disbelief "You know she won't come back without you. It's that solidarity thing you taught her. The two of you against the enemy... and your father and I are the enemy."

Her placid countenance didn't change but Lorelai's voice did drop a few degrees when she replied, "Last time I checked people who are on your side don't try to railroad relationships because of some deluded Mother knows best complex. Enemy might not be my word but I won't argue with it."

Emily's eyes narrowed in defense "No matter what you think Lorelai that is not what happened."

Lorelai arched a quizzical eyebrow "Really mother? Because I was there and I'm pretty sure that's exactly what happened so unless you're going to claim that you slipped me a Rufi and I conked out for the evening and made up the whole part Melrose Place plot about you conveniently inviting Christopher to screw up things with Luke I think that this argument is bordering on pretty ridiculous territory even for you."

"Sometimes I have no idea what on earth you are talking about."

"Don't play dumb mother, it's beneath you. I'm talking about you playing Eve Harrington to my Margo Channing and stabbing me in the back. I tried to play by your rules, I brought Luke to dinner so you could play twenty rounds of humiliate and belittle the small town diner man and then he played eighteen holes of let's decide how inadequate your life is with dad and he still agreed to come to that wedding with me, not because his idea of a great Saturday night is dining on teensy tinsy appetizers and drinking tankards of sour grapes but because I asked him to come. I wanted you to accept us; I wanted you to be happy for us. Just once I wanted you to put your arm around me and tell me that you were happy that I am in love with someone who actually loves me back in the right way at the right time for the right reasons. Instead you betrayed your only daughter in some misguided attempt to make me fit into your pretty little life according to Emily schema. Well I'm sorry mother but I'm not Violetta Valery and you're no Giorgio Germont, so nice try, but you lose."

Emily's chin came up at that "You always think everything I do is some selfish attack on you but you're wrong. I've spent years watching you and the way that the two of you are together; you and Christopher love each other. I simply do not understand why you waste all your time in relationships with other men instead of going after the love of your life and getting the life that you want. I didn't understand it when you were sixteen and I don't understand it now."

Lorelai put her coffee cup down with great care before she stood up slowly and looked straight down into her mother's eyes, her own gaze intense and rock steady, her voice starkly edged "That's not the life I want. That's the life that you want for me. You're right, Christopher and I do love each other but he isn't the love of my life. We were high school sweethearts before hormones and hot heads got in the way but we were never meant to be forever. You never understood that." She took a deep slow breath to keep her voice from rising "I'm done rehashing the past and I'm done letting you use it to try to ruin my future. I'm finished playing by your rules, so listen to me very carefully because I am only going say this once. You don't have to understand, you don't have to accept, all you have to do is stay out of the way." She leaned over the table and her voice went low and deadly serious "Luke is in my life and he may not be Bono but he IS the love of my life and I'm going to marry him and I'm going to live happily ever after with him and there isn't a damn thing that you can do to stop me."

She took a deep slow breath and straightened slowly picking up the half empty pot with great deliberation and then reaching for her coffee cup "Now if you don't mind, I think I'll skip the rest of this happy little reunion and get back to work."

Emily moved quicker than Lorelai thought was possible and caught her wrist before she could pull it back " I do mind. We are not finished here."

Lorelai looked in her mother's eyes, searching for something, some flicker of apology, some acknowledgement of the pain she had caused, some reaction but saw nothing but her own face mirrored back. Some things never changed. Lorelai kept her voice hard even as her heart twisted in disappointment "Yes, we are mother. Now get out of my Inn before I have to call Tom in and have you thrown out in the snow on your ass. It would be a shame to ruin that nice Chanel suit just for the sake of getting in the last word."

Emily's hand tightened and her voice was even and clearly enunciated "You may be finished but I am not. Sit down Lorelai. I have something to say."

Lorelai's tone was clipped and dismissive "I think I'll stand, the list of things that I want to hear from you is pretty limited, I'm sure I won't be here long."

Emily released Lorelai's wrist and threaded her hands together in front of her on the table, an old mannerism that spoke to her desire for rigid control. "Suit yourself."

"I usually do." Lorelai said with a sharp tone but then bit her tongue as her mother looked down at her napkin and took a deep breath. Could it be...?

"I did what I thought was best. I was wrong. Is that what you want to hear?" Emily's tone was almost belligerent, like a five year old begrudgingly confessing to having broken her favorite toy.

For a minute relief and irrational amusement warred in Lorelai's mind as she stared down at her mother and tried to absorb her almost apology. She fought to keep her voice stern. "That's a start."

" I apologized. What more do you want from me Lorelai?" Emily snapped.

"You almost apologized, it's not quite the same thing and its not enough, not this time because this wasn't just about me. You really want us to go back to weekly dinners then you're going to have to give me something more. You're going to have to apologize to Luke."

"Excuse me?" Emily managed to sound incredulous which Lorelai almost had to applaud given the circumstances.

Lorelai spoke very slowly in exaggerated drawn out syllables "Apologize to Luke."

Emily gave her a haughtily dignified look "Do not speak to me like I am the village idiot Lorelai."

"Then don't say things that make George Bush look like a MENSA member in comparison." Lorelai said in an easy tone.

"That was uncalled for Lorelai."

Lorelai allowed herself one small shark toothed smile "Maybe, but it was satisfying." She crossed her arms and gave her mother an implacable look "I'll give it you point blank, it's time to meet your Waterloo. You can walk into Luke's quaint rustic little diner that you impugned to his face and tell him that you, Emily Gilmore, made a mistake. Tell him that you are sorry and for the record you must actually use that word, sorry. In fact I would use it several times if I were you, just to be sure he's got the message. You give Luke a real apology, not the Gilmore version and we'll talk about Friday night dinners." She waited for a beat but when no response was forthcoming from Emily she tapped her foot impatiently "Or you can pick up your fancy bag and go outside and get in your fancy car and drive back to your fancy house and expect to get a Christmas card from me once a year telling you how great life is in my happy little world that is completely fancy-free." She waited for another breath to pass, her mother's face to grow impassive once more, all that disbelief settling back into calm planes and angles, a transformation that she remembered from the time that she was a young child. Emily Gilmore coming to a decision, it could have been time-lapse photography like a montage of a leaf slowly wilting, dying, and becoming a mere skeleton of leafy veins. "What's it going to be mother, eat humble pie down here with us commoners or stick with the stiff upper crust?"

Emily stood up with dignity and managed to look elegant even in defeat as she nodded once in acquiesance "I'll expect to see you at the New Year's Eve party next Saturday night."

Lorelai gave her a tight smile "You have a nice crow sandwich for lunch and I'll even put on my extra-fancy party dress."

"Seven o'clock sharp." Emily said in her best no nonsense voice.

"I'll do my best impression of a Conestoga wagon." Lorelai said gaily, picturing a team of bell-laden oxen in her mother's foyer as she ignored her annoyed look and escorted her to the door, feeling good about the way this unexpected ambush had been turned to her advantage. Two could play this little game after all and sometimes you could even win a round or two.

Emily was halfway across the small parking lot when she threw her parting shot. "We'll talk about the engagement announcement at dinner next week and the wedding date, I assume you will be deciding that soon, it's the polite thing to do."

She closed her eyes and sighed all her triumphant feelings of a moment ago effectively drowned. She should have known she could never win. No one ever won against Emily Gilmore. "See you Saturday mother."

A moment later she heard an engine purr to life and Lorelai let her eyelids lift staring unblinkingly as German made taillights dimmed in the distance and she thought about thumbscrews and family dinners and how she really felt like kicking something. Hard. Even if it did ruin her favorite pair of Kenneth Cole heels. It was a small price to pay for catharsis.

The phone rang before she could focus her murderous intent on a hapless target and she sighed in defeat and pulled the phone from her pocket.

"Lorelai speaking."

"Mom, where are you?" Rory's voice sounded a little on the tight side."

Lorelai leaned back against the closed front door as she stared down at the shoes that had narrowly missed an untimely demise "I'm at the Inn and you have impeccable timing, you just saved me ninety bucks for a new pair of shoes."

Rory's tone lightened a little. "So you owe me."

"That's one way to look at." Lorelai said carefully, curious as to the direction of this statement.

"Great, works for me. Meet me at home in fifteen and bring some of Sookie's cookies, I don't care what kind, just make sure there is chocolate in them."

Lorelai winced, forgetting her own close encounters of the Gilmore kind and recalling her daughter's recent assignation with the exiled. "That bad huh?"

Rory's voice was glum "There should have been a background score by Ennio Morrricone."

Lorelai chuckled but kept her voice sympathetic "Sounds like we've hit Divine Comedy levels. How about I bring cookies AND rocky road ice cream."

Rory's tone turned curious "Is there something I should know?"

Lorelai mimicked her daughter's early glum tone "We're going to New Years Eve at Rose Red and the cover charge is my soul."

"Just a guess but I'm going to say that's Stephen King code for you talked to Grandma and Grandpa?"

Lorelai stared back down the now empty access road "I had coffee with Buono, Bianchi stayed home this time."

Rory gave a little whistle "Wow, comparing them to the Hillside Stranglers, that must have been some conversation."

Lorelai straightened off the door as she suddenly thought about her mother storming Luke's diner like General Patton on his way through Brittany and poor unprepared Luke with nothing but a spatula and a frying pan to defend himself. "Speaking of which you'd better make that twenty minutes, I've got some damage control to do."

"I'll stop at the movie place, I'm think Godfather and Donnie Darko would fit the mood."

"Horse heads and six foot rabbits named Frank, perfect. I'll bring oranges, but who, pray tell are we planning to kill?"

"I haven't decided yet. So, twenty minutes?"

"It's a date kid."

Lorelai dialed quickly after Rory hung up and waited with her bottom lip snugged against her teeth while the phone rang on the other end. She spoke in a rush when the phone was answered on the other end "My mother may be visiting you soon."

"Wha...?" Luke sounded surprised bordering on frightened.

"She's coming to apologize."

"To me?" Now if anything Luke sounded close to panic.

"No time to explain. Just let her do the talking and call me to tell me what she said."

"But she's..."

"I'll be at home. Come over when you're done if you want to. We'll be watching the Don, you might need the lesson after talking to Emily."

"Lor..." Luke stared at the phone in his hand as the dial tone rang in his ear "she's already here." He muttered to the non-responsive phone and then hung it up with a heavy hand before he turned to face his counter and stopped trying to figure out what in god's name would possess Emily Gilmore to come to his diner and order a cheeseburger.

It was four thirty in the afternoon on a Tuesday that already felt three weeks too long.

Logan was staring into a rather tepid pint of beer...still his first...and he was thinking about oxymorons. A fine mess, that one pretty much described his day in a nutshell. Comedic tragedy, there was a good commentary on his life as a whole. A harmless lie, a necessary evil, a loyal deceit, a victimless crime, those all fell under the heading of insanely logical excuses he'd used to justify action that had led to this moment of tragical mirth with a thunderous silence surrounding him. He contemplated his role as an honorable villain and felt an exponential increase in the pain in his head caused by the numbing sensation of a dull knife to the conscience.

Yes, today had proved it once and for all. He was the perfect screw-up.

At least he had an excellent vocabulary. That's what you got for being the son of a famous journalist/newspaper magnate. Lunch was a re-enactment of the Battle of Midway but at least he had some nice punchy descriptors for the scene. He had a whole slew of adjectives for the emotional rollercoaster that had so many loops and spirals and switchbacks that it made the Top Thrill Dragster at Cedar Point seem like a nice little ride on the Mickey's teacups.

There might have been too many twists and turns to count but he had a catchy colorful portrayal of each and every one. He'd gone from flash-frozen shock to volcanic rage with the click of a cell phone in his father's hand, flagrant belligerence shifting fluidly into gelid disgust at his father's imperturbable countenance, glacial hostility completing its metamorphosis to blatant ignominy when his father dismissed his girlfriend, his feelings and him as if they were simply beneath his notice, too inconsequential a detail to waste a single second more of Mitchum Huntzberger's precious time. He felt the anger tighten his muscles even now, hours later and he gripped his glass tighter in reaction.

"I'll have whatever he's having." A voice next to him startled Logan out of his reverie and he turned his head in bewilderment to see Stephanie removing a pink down jacket that reminded him of cotton candy and sliding onto a stool next to him at the bar.

He blinked twice in surprise having expected to have the dingy confines of Connor's all to himself. He frowned "What are you doing here? Aren't you supposed to be in Aspen until next week?"

Stephanie gave him a playful look of mock affront "Gee I'm really glad to see you too. You know if had a smaller ego I might be crushed by a greeting like that. Lucky for you I know how fantastic I am so I don't take other people's doldrums personally." When this got nothing but a small snort from Logan before he resumed his vacant staring at the amber liquid in his glass she went on "You do have a good memory for dates though. I was supposed to be in Aspen but I got bored. Nothing but skiing and hot-tubbing for a week straight is enough to make me start painting Redrum on everything."

"I feel for you."

She continued unperturbed by his sarcasm "So I called Colin and it turns out he was bored too, all that sand and sun makes him grouchy and he was starting in on the Paradise Lost quotes already and we all know it's pretty much downhill from there. So long story short, we decided to come home early."

Logan gave her a little smirk "That's a touching story but I would sort of think that it should end with you and the other half of we smooching in a dark corner and calling each other snookums or sugarpuff so you can keep your title as most saccharine couple of the year? You should get right on that, I haven't felt the urge to gag in over a week, I'm beginning to feel out of practice."

Stephanie glared at him but it was mostly for show and her tone wasn't nearly as insulted as she looked when she glanced up at the bartender again "On second thought I think I'll have a gin and tonic, I'm worried there is something in that beer that will make my face look like his." She gestured at Logan with a smile at the bartender who gave a little snort of agreement before he turned to make her drink. She gave Logan a sharp look through her lashes her tone turning more playful "You know, normally I would take your head off for a comment like that but I'll make an exception this time since you are obviously out of sorts today and it's just no fun to kick a guy who is already lying on the ground." She gave a little sigh as a rueful smile tilted the corner of her mouth "Besides I'm a tiny bit afraid that you might be right about that whole sappy upchuck reflex thing, so lets talk about something else."

She smiled at the bartender as he brought her drink and then turned in her seat, her full attention of her friend. "Come on Oscar, crawl out of you garbage can and tell Tinkerbelle all about your troubles. Maybe I can sprinkle a little pixie dust on them and they will all disappear."

Logan gave her an irritated look "Where is the missing half anyway? I bet he's a lot more fun to bother than I am."

Stephanie stirred her gin with a red swizzle stick, kicking her feet against the legs of the bar stool and giving him her best winsome smile "His plane was delayed in New York so it's just you and me gloomy Gus. With all of Yale on hiatus we're the only two losers in the whole city who have nothing better to do than drink at 4 in the afternoon so I guess you're the only entertainment I've got. Better make it good after that snookums comment."

Logan gave a sigh that all but cried 'why me' but then he went back to staring woefully at his beer and switched tacks abruptly "Who says I have troubles?"

Stephanie's face was a study in disbelief "Your face for one. You're channeling that guy from Lost in Translation, it's not your usual role and I have to say that's a damn good thing because pathetic really is not your look, clashes with those Huntzberger cheek bones and it's all wrong with that smirk."

He glared at her but she sailed glibly on "I've known you long enough to know that there is a very limited list of things that make a guy like you look like Hugh Grant after Elizabeth Hurley got a hold of the tabloid pictures so you can either tell me or I'll start guessing." When he didn't fill in the blank space between words she started ticking things off her fingers "I'm guessing fight with someone in the family category, father, brother, mother, or all of the above, or it could be a fight with Rory or someone in her family, or..." she paused as if contemplating. "Nope, I'm out. That's it. You don't care enough about Wall Street or politics to look like you're half a beer away from being a Conway Twitty song so it's gotta be one of those, girl troubles or family troubles. Care to end my suspense?

He gave her a hard look but finally gave up with a sigh when she remained unmoved by his glare with her eyebrows raised in a inquisitive expression that said very clearly that she had all the time in the world and there was a greater chance of the devil himself appearing to serve them cocktail peanuts than that she would walk out of this bar without getting an answer to her question. He gave a disgusted sigh. "Both. It was both, okay, are you happy now?"

Her eyes had turned avid with interest "Not even close but the afternoon is looking up. Details please." When he went back to staring stiff lipped at his drink she gave him a poke in the shoulder "Don't even try that poker face thing with me, you haven't won this game since we were eight and you're not going to win it now. You have two choices, either tell me know or tell me later, after I have tortured it out of you."

"You aspiring to be Bloody Mary today?"

"Only if it involves vodka, I don't go in for that whole religious persecution thing." She paused to contemplate "I won't complain if you call me Highness though."

"I pity Colin." He said darkly with something that sounded less like pity more like a plea for rescue.

She just laughed "You're trite when you are pouting so let's just skip to the end and get the good part where you tell me all the sordid details."

Logan gave up the fight "Look there is really nothing to tell. Rory and my father met at lunch, it didn't go well. I ended up here drinking alone at 4 in the afternoon while HER father is probably out finding someone to rip off all my fingernails with a dirty pair of pliers."

"Her father? Did I miss the part where your life became an episode of Dynasty?" Stephanie held up a hand "Never mind, start at the beginning. Rory was at lunch with you and your father." she supplied helpfully and then waited for him to continue.

Logan sighed and scrubbed a hand across his face "Not quite. Rory was at lunch with her father and I was at lunch with my father and it happened to be at the same place at the same time, it was a complete coincidence, a fucking awful, catastrophic but entirely unpremeditated coincidence."

"I'm thinking Finn would be quoting a line from Macbeth right about here in the conversation but I'll refrain because I'm sure I wouldn't do it justice."

"Fool or not the guy does a mean Scottish witch."

Stephanie quickly veered back to the topic of interest "So back to our fateful scene, boy meets girl, girl meets boys' father, boy meets girl's father, fathers meet each other... did I miss anything?"

He smiled ruefully "You forgot the we all descend to the seventh level of hell part."

Stephanie turned with avid eyes and big smile that said tell me all your secrets "Well you were just getting to that part."

"Right. Here goes. I'm having lunch with my dad so you can imagine the scene, cold silence interrupted by frigid silence occasionally broken by wintry silence. So we're getting ready to order our impossibly over priced salads and suddenly I look up and there is Rory, walking across the restaurant towards me all innocent and smiling and unaware that the Ice Man Cometh. I leap before I think I and try to head her off less than successfully, then her father shows up directly behind her being all friendly and nonchalant like last time we met he didn't want to rip my arms off for touching his daughter and he makes a joke. It's some sort of genetic thing, I don't really get it, but then my father is Nero, so why would I? Nero is pretty observant though and this little assemblage clearly can't escape his notice for long so he stands up and introduces himself. Rory's dad shakes his hand and it's one of those nice polite, I'm judging your net worth by your handshake sort of affairs, exactly what you would expect. Then Rory shakes my father's hand, and she's doing that cute babbling thing she does because she's excited to meet the Mr. Journalist Legend Huntzberger and my father smiles at her, you know the smile I'm talking about, the I'm imagining all the ways that I'm going to grind you to dust smile and I'm wishing that I had one of those handy giant drills that the Underminer has in the Incredibles so that I could dig myself to China in a hurry. Then it's all over, my father calls her Lori and excuses himself to make a call and Rory looks at me like I'm some sort of horror flick monster and her father threatens to castrate me with his eyes and I stand like a mute. That's pretty much it."

Stephanie frowned and shook her head slightly "Okay, maybe I'm just slow on the uptake today considering I'm drinking gin and it's only 2:30 in Colorado but I missed something in that overly dramatic retelling. I mean I know your father is a bastard but how could he not like Rory? She's smart, she's got wealthy blood and she looks like an angel all pure and haloed and practically puritanical next to most of your former 'girlfriends'. "

Logan looked her straight in the eye for the first time since she'd arrived at the bar and the sheer self-loathing in his gaze made her suck in a breath to brace for the shock of whatever he would say next. "I never told my family about us. My father had never heard the name Rory Gilmore before today. He had no idea who she was and he made that blatantly clear to everyone in the room."

Stephanie grimaced, she couldn't help it "Okay... yeah... that's not good. I'm not sure I would go as far as fucking awful and catastrophic but definitely high on the bonehead scale."

"There's more."

She sighed and took a sip of her drink as if to steel herself "Of course there is."

"She told me she loved me."

Stephanie's eyebrows pulled together in confusion "Today? With the daddy duo standing right there?" she gave a little whistle of appreciation "That girl has some guts, I guess it's true what they say about the sweet looking ones being..."

Logan interrupted impatiently "Not today, last week."

Stephanie looked even more perplexed "She told you she loved you last week. What does this have to do with lunch and why is this bad?"

"Well it's not bad all by itself, in fact it was pretty good at the time, but I was so surprised that I didn't say it back and then I was too much of a coward to say it later and I've met her family, I've met her whole damn town actually and they want to adopt me... which is not as creepy as it sounds and then here she finds out that I didn't even tell my family about her and my father was a cold hearted bastard and treated her like she was the hired help in public."

Stephanie stared at him implacably for a minute and then blinked slowly as if surprised "That's it?" He was clearly appalled by this question but she kept going " I mean the way you were talking I thought maybe you stabbed her father with a fork in a fit of pique or she caught you making out with her mother or something. I mean I hate to break it to you knowing how much you were enjoying your little one man lynching here but the way I see it this 'problem' of yours is a non-problem. No wait, hear me out." She held up a hand when he seemed ready to protest. "So you didn't say I love you at the drop of a hat, so what, she obviously already accepted that, it'll mean more when you do say it." She rolled her eyes at his thoughtless noise of denial "Don't even try to convince me you won't say it. You've got the beautiful sickness and you're terminal. As for the family disclosure thing, you actually sort of did her a favor, not that you should say that to her... ever... but we all know, the less time she had to spends in the company of the Bathory clan the better. Your father treats everyone but the President of the United States like they are the help and the guy's heart hasn't been above absolute zero in decades. This is not news. If she really loves you then she'll forgive you fact that you were just the tiniest bit stupid and she'll love you even more when you use that Huntzberger charm to convince her that you were really just doing it to protect her. All you have to do is bring her coffee, grovel a little, apologize profusely and then move on." Stephanie brushed her palms together "Problem solved." She grabbed her drink and took a celebratory swig.

Unfortunately Logan looked less than elated at this news and his voice remained subdued "I did apologize, sort of. Well, I meant to apologize but I screwed that up too."

Stephanie set her glass down with a loud clink and her voice held resigned horror "What did you say?"

"I said I wasn't sorry."

She closed her eyes "and what did she say?"

"She said she would forgive me... eventually, and then she said she needed space and she left."

Stephanie's eyes snapped open and she looked mad as hell now "And you didn't follow her?"

Logan looked surprised at the admonition "Uh."

She looked as if she might shake him "She said she'd forgive you and you didn't follow her? What do you want an engraved invitation?"

Logan was getting irritated now "She said eventually. She didn't want me to follow her, she seemed pretty clear on that point...she said..."

Stephanie put her forehead in her had and her tone was woeful "You are living proof of the deleterious effects of love on the male intellect."

"Excuse me?"

"Translation. Love makes boys stupid and you just became exhibit A." Stephanie shook her head as if in disbelief "Never thought I'd live to see the day."

Logan gave her a sulky look "Who nominated you as the de facto expert on love? If I remember correctly your love life wasn't exactly a model of romantic perfection before last month."

Stephanie gave him a haughty look "I was just practicing for the real thing."

"How very revisionist of you." Logan said with a sneer.

She rolled her eyes "Spare me the petty insults and the indignation, both very unbecoming in a guy."

Logan gave a little huff before he relented "Fine great oracle, tell me, what to do you think I should do?"

"Talk to her, tell her the truth, don't let her run away and don't get defensive when she doesn't immediately understand the kind of issues you're talking about, you've got a little language barrier to deal with, you grew up in Vietnam and she grew up on the set for Happy Days so you've got to do a little explaining."

"That's it? That's your brilliant advice? Just tell her the truth and all will be forgive?" Logan gave her a skeptical look. "You'll pardon me if I don't send out a nomination letter to Stockholm just yet."

Stephanie sighed impatiently "Look Logan, from what you've told me it sounds like she's already basically forgiven you but that doesn't mean she won't make you suffer a little. Call it reparation for sins of omission and pay up. That's my advice. Take it or leave it."

He stared at her for a long moment weighing her words and then he pulled his phone out of his pocket with a decisive nod "Okay. Here goes nothing."

Before he dial the first number Stephanie reached over and snatched the phone from him and snapped it shut. She wagged the confiscated phone from side to side "Not on the phone. Too easy to hang up, no eye contact, no Huntzberger drop 'em where they stand smile to fall back on when all else fails. You've got to do this in person otherwise you're dead."

"Sometimes you're way too bossy for your own good."

"You're just mad because I'm right." She said with a smile, still holding the phone well out of his reach."

He stood up "Fine. You win. I'm going." He held out a hand and she plopped the phone into it with a victorious smile. Then he grabbed his coat and headed for the door.

Her voice trailed after him. "You'll thank me later."

She was probably right but he wasn't in the mood to be agreeable so he just rolled his eyes "Don't hold your breath."

Her laughter followed him out the door and into the street where he climbed into his car and headed back to fantasyland.