Disclaimer: Obviously I don't own the show or any of the characters in it. Quote's from Casablanca.

A/N: I had a sudden burst of inspiration eight years after I first wrote this and decided to revise and continue this story. Thanks for anyone who reviewed this story. You guys are definitely a big part of why I've decided to continue. The first three chapters have been reposted and the fourth should be coming out soon!

Logan and Rory have become friends in the two months after The Party's Over.

Prologue: Dawning Declarations

It had started out innocently enough; they were hiding. An overzealous admirer had forced him to seek refuge in his room and en route, she appeared out of thin air and clamped onto his arm, begging him to save her from an extremely pissed off Paris. "Doyle thought Paris' article belonged on another page. Now she won't shut up about it."

Sounds from the party are slightly muted by his bedroom door, creating a feeling of isolation from the rest of the world. He shows her a bottle of wine he snagged from the makeshift bar and they make a toast to his forethought. She's never been a particularly strong drinker and that night, she's a pathetic spectacle to behold. The wine makes her exceptionally vulnerable and she spends her time trying to brush aside thoughts of Dean and sad to say it, Jess. To cheer her up, Logan cracks inane jokes about how Dean had been too tall, too simple to hold an intelligent conversation; how Jess-even though he's never met him-sounded like a clichéd bad boy. How neither was good enough for her anyway. When she's being especially maudlin, he rouses her to debates about anything and everything. Where did she stand politically? Which fast food had the best French fries? Did she root for the coyote or the road runner as a little kid? He's always been partial to the coyote himself; the guy just worked so hard to never succeed.

There is a reassuring kiss every now and then; on her forehead, on her cheek, until Rory becomes impatient and crashes her lips to his. He tastes fruity, oaky… bitter. Exactly how she feels. The thought brings her back to her senses and she immediately pushes him back. A moment passes-in which she bites her lip, eyes flitting around the room-before he tentatively edges toward her again. Noticing the confusion swirling in her eyes, Logan pauses to gauge her reaction, daring her to make a move. She begrudgingly sighs and gives in, tilting her face until their mouths meet; and she opens hers just that much wider when he slips his tongue in. Logan slowly eases her lower on the bed, his right hand lingering on the hem of her shirt. He feels warm and reassuring on her skin and she's too wrapped up in the moment to notice the screaming in her head of how she shouldn't be doing this.

"Logan! There's a girl looking for you out here!" Colin's voice carries over the music. They ignore him until the frantic banging starts. "Logan! Are you dead? I JUST SAID THERE'S A WILLING GIRL OUTSIDE YOUR DOOR."

Groaning as he stands, Logan slips off of Rory and rubs his hair, trying to make it look halfway decent. "I'll get rid of him."

She nods and cocoons herself in his comforter, unwilling to let the brief jolt of reality ruin her drunken haze.

The music blares loudly as Logan opens the door and a sudden pain hits her temples, something akin to a migraine. She realizes she's this close to puking and that would definitely be a mood killer.

"Logan." Rory hears a female voice from the doorway. The girl leans in closer to lay a hand on Logan's chest. "Where have you been? I've missed you. Can we talk? Privately?"

She's heard enough and the bile rises quickly to her throat. Hurriedly, Rory half jogs out of the room, holding her hand to her mouth. Rounding the corner to the girls' room, she shoves past several girls on their way out.

Her first brush of typical college life, vomiting into a germ infested bathroom seat. Lorelai's voice reverberates in her head. "I just don't want you to go through what I went through kid. You're better than those guys and that world. For God's sake you haven't even been properly drunk before." Well, that's one thing she can cross off her list. She stumbles to the sink to rinse out her mouth, keeping a firm grip on the bowl with both hands as she tries to maintain her balance.

The door opens as she finally succeeds in wresting a paper towel from the dispenser. "Rory."

Meekly glancing at him, she focuses on his cheek, not quite ready to see the evident amusement in his eyes.

"So I guess that last toast wasn't such a great idea," he says, casually rubbing her back as she's wiping her hands. "Come on Ace, I'll walk you home."

She leans into his shoulder, trying to steady herself as they walk down the hall. "So I've had a life changing realization."

"Really, when did this realization hit you? When you were puking into the toilet?"

"Actually, it was when that girl opened her mouth."

Logan absently shifts his hold on her waist. "Wow, an epiphany cultivated by a drunk girl because of a drunk girl. Now that's a dirty joke waiting to happen."

"Ba-dum-dum. What a gentlemen. I can see why there's a line to get to you. Anyway, we're getting away from my epiphany."

"Oh yes, the dawning declaration that will change the world. So what did you come up with?"

They've entered the main entrance to her dorm. "I was thinking that I, Rory Gilmore, am most honest in my drunken moments." She's throwing him a line, baiting him.

"And why do you think this?"

"Because I end up living life, acting on impulses. It's the only time I don't worry about expectations or what other people think."

"So kissing me was an impulse."

"Yep, just something I wanted to do."

"So… you saw this girl hit on me and saw a kindred spirit?"

"Well, maybe not a kindred spirit. She doesn't seem like someone I'd want to go to the mall with, but she was only doing what I had done. She just wanted your attention."

He only half understands everything she's saying but grins all the same. Reaching her dorm, Rory tries several times to open the door (repeatedly waving off his help) before she wordlessly hands him the key. Logan manages to curb her stumbling to a minimum as he leads her to the bed and takes off her shoes. "All right, the trash can is in easy access. Just lean over okay?"

Nodding, Rory's eyes are already shut. "My knight in shining armor rescuing me with a well-placed trash can. We'll get you a horse in the morning."

"I appreciate the sentiment. Night, Ace." The door clicks as he leaves the room.

The next morning is terrible. The noise, the sunlight, the smell; they've all combined forces to sway her from drinking ever again. "Don't worry," Rory dramatically mutters to the room. "Next time I'll just jump off a cliff instead."

She slowly sits up to rest her weight on her hands before quickly flopping down again, unwilling to indulge in the sun's rays. A couple minutes later she finally makes it out of bed, listlessly dragging herself to the bathroom. Stopping short, she ends up flopping into a kitchen chair instead, cradling her head in her hands.

"It's a shame really. You could've stayed home and avoided the retching, the migraine, the overall crappy feeling. But no, anything's better than listening to Paris go on and on about her problems."

Rory groans, knowing it won't change a thing. "Not now Paris, please? Or you could keep going but I'm barely listening as is."

Paris looks at her slumped figure in disgust. "Fine, I'll lay off for now. Just don't make a habit out of this. I didn't waste all this time on you so that you could turn around and become some typical frat groupie. Remember when we tried the whole spring break thing? You were the one that 'had no desire to feel that way again.' Where did that girl go?"

"It's not like I do this every weekend. So I drank, big whoop. That's what college is for." Her anger dissipates enough of the spinning for her to make a grab at the Advil on the table. "I'm sorry that I stepped off of my pedestal for one night-"

"One night? Listen up princess. You've screwed up multiple times. Everyone's just conveniently forgotten when you slept with Dean while he was still married. Don't fool yourself into believing that you're still considered perfect as you've implied."

"Well I'm sorry I couldn't follow your example and sleep with a professor instead but I guess I have something to strive for now don't I?" The words burn leaving her mouth and she's suddenly plagued with images of Paris coming at her with a chainsaw. "Wait, I'm so sorry. That… that wasn't what I meant."

She doesn't even flinch when Paris slams the stack of books on the table and storms out. "Good going, Rory. Way to prove you belong on a pedestal."

This was definitely a day to be spent in bed.

"Feeling better, Ace? Move over a little would you?" Logan all but pushes Rory to the side and makes himself comfortable on her bed.

She snorts in annoyance but wiggles over to give him some space. "I shouldn't be near people. I need to be locked up as soon as possible."

"I only left you a couple hours ago. I doubt you could do anything permanently damaging in such a short amount of time."

"Let's see, shall we?" Rory raises her hand, counting off each infraction. "I got up this morning with the biggest migraine known to man. I've alienated my roommate with an offensive comment about her last relationship and I'm pretty sure she's going to murder me in my sleep tonight. My mom is going to be disappointed when she hears that I've delved myself further into the world she constantly berates. I have about a week's amount of homework to catch up on… and I have this feeling I did something incredibly embarrassing yesterday night."

"Has anyone ever told you, you worry too much? And over the dumbest things, I gotta say." He grabs her hand just before she has a chance to slap his leg. "Violent tendencies too, I've learned too much about you in these past twenty-four hours."

"I'm not in the mood to be mocked."

"Who would be?" Logan starts outlining circles in her palm with his thumb. "Listen, in a couple hours the headache will be gone. Then you'll apologize to your roommate for whatever you said and she'll accept because it'll be nauseatingly remorseful and appropriate since you've been forming this apology while having said argument. Next you'll realize that this is your life and not your mother's and that she probably already understands this even if she disapproves. And then, you're going to spend every minute in the library starting tomorrow."

"Why not today?"

"Studying with a hangover makes things worse, not better. Trust me."

Silence blankets the room as she realizes that he's still holding her hand. "So was I right? Did I do anything incredibly stupid last night?"

His thumb pauses for a moment as he mulls over the question, smiling in recollection. "Not stupid per say, but definitely not what I had defined as Rory-like behavior."

"Oh." She takes a moment to collect herself. "And did this particular scenario have any rippling effects that I should be aware of? Just-" She's suddenly aware of the butterflies in her stomach. "I'd like to be prepared for a counter attack or if I'm suddenly going to have to duck out of every room you enter." Against her better judgment, intentions and expectations have woven themselves into her question.

"No." Well that was quick. "As I see it, the girl in this scenario was more than a little intoxicated and had merely followed her impulses. Right?"

A subtle letdown wrapped in a partial hypothetical.

"Oh, yeah right." Rory clears her throat as she struggles to hide her disappointment. "Right."

"Anyway-" Abruptly he sits up and grabs his shoes. "I just wanted to see how you were feeling. I have to get back. Finn's about to wake up from his nap."

As he's leaving, she suddenly blurts out his name, effectively stopping him in the doorway. "Logan? We're-" Rory shuts her eyes tight and opens them once more, willing herself to finish as cringe worthy as it'll sound. "We're friends, right?"

He grins-reminding her of the first day they met-and quotes, "Louis, I think this is the beginning of a beautiful friendship."