A/N: I think I probably have a good 6 – 8 copies of this chapter in various stages of completion hiding out in my room (hand written copies) and on my computer. Most of which disappear and re-appear after I've finished that section or decided to go another direction.

It has been long – too long – and I am sorry for that. I've missed this story, and I've missed these characters. I also feel horrible knowing that with my writing I can never manage to sit down and finish something. That needs to change, especially if this is something I am seriously considering pursuing in my future.

I was nervous about posting this chapter. It's been so long, I don't want to let anyone down. Either way, please let me know what you think. Your reviews after all are what inspired me to come back – there were just too many to turn away!

Disclaimer: I do not own anything associated with Gilmore Girls

Chapter 23: Torn

The following day found Rory hiding in one of the guest bedrooms. Well hiding wasn't the right word – she wasn't under the bed, or behind a stack of clothes in the closet. Anyone who walked in could find her... well, at least that was what she tried to convince herself.

In truth she was avoiding Logan. And Max. She was avoiding the two of them, and it was making her entire trip uncomfortable and frustrating. In two days she had kissed two guys, and she had no idea why. Being in the pool with Logan had completely freaked her out. She was afraid. Afraid of her growing feelings for Logan and afraid of admitting them aloud. What if he didn't feel the same way? It's not high school anymore; maybe Logan had reached a point in his life where a kiss was no big deal, but she wasn't there yet. A kiss for her was always going to mean something.

Say she had done something, what if he didn't interpret the kiss the same way? Then all she would have accomplished is an embarrassing declaration of her feelings, and for what; a 'thanks for telling me how you feel?' as he bolts in the other direction? At least with Max she could bolt too. The Germany trip was almost over, she was leaving in under a week so if things did go bad then she wouldn't have to deal with it. With Logan though... he was in her classes. He worked on the paper with her; they had the same friends, and frequented the same coffee shops. To run from Logan would require her to give up on all of that. She didn't risk ruining a friendship with Max unless it somehow jeopardized her friendship with Logan, which considering her luck these days it likely would.

The fact of the matter was that she'd dug herself into a hole. Unwittingly she had led two guys on, made a fool of herself and turned into a slightly more modest version of her high school friend Louise. This was not who she wanted to be. More than anything she wanted to go back to before all the awkwardness and uncertainty and the kisses (though they were both fantastic) and stop herself. If she couldn't do that she wanted to go back to Hartford and forget that any of it ever happened. Until then she wanted to get lost.

The ride home from the mountain had been awkward. Beyond awkward. Shira had been insistent on Rory riding with her and recounting every moment of her skiing ordeal, and what an ordeal it had turned out to be.

"So Rory," Shira had asked with a mischievous glint in her eyes. "How was your first skiing adventure?"

"It was good..." Rory replied hesitantly.

"What was the best part?" Shira had pried.

"Yes Rory," Logan said with a harsh sarcasm. "What was the best part?"

Hurt by his tone Rory looked at him. What she saw terrified her. He was angry. His eyes were glossed over and they challenged her, as if he was looking for a fight. The anger she could handle, she was used to Logan and his mood swings, it was one of his strange qualities that she found herself growing to like. But under his anger was a sadness; sadness and disappointment and their combination confused her to no end. She needed time to think. She needed to make a list, why couldn't he see that?

"I guess the best part was making it down the hill. I felt pretty accomplished," she answered truthfully. She did her best not to look at Logan, but given the fact that they were trapped in the back of a limo didn't help matters. "Of course then I got freaked out about the accident," Rory confessed, the memory of the helicopter momentarily pushing thoughts of Logan and Max aside.

"But darling, that was at the beginning of the day!" Emily exclaimed.

"I know," Rory answered, offering a smile for her grandmother's benefit.

"Well what did you do with yourself if you weren't skiing?"

"I mainly just stayed in the chalet reading and drinking coffee." Since Rory was trying not to look at anyone she didn't notice the quick look Emily cast to Shira and the unspoken question that loomed in her eyes. Logan, however, did catch it, and not for the first time did he wonder if there was something peculiar about this trip that he was missing.

"So you just stayed in the chalet reading all day?" Shira asked.

"Pretty much," Rory smiled, keeping her lips tight together.

Logan snorted. What is wrong with him? Rory thought. He was the one who disappeared without a word, and if this was about her and Max it was only one kiss. Okay, it was more than one kiss, but she was in a foreign country with everyone she knew telling her to let go. Hell, even Logan had told her as much. Who was he to make her feel guilty about kissing someone she barely knew – he did it all the time! He wasn't her boyfriend, they weren't even dating. He ambushed her in the pool, confused her to no end, sent his smooth talking quick lipped friend in to clean up, and he was mad at her?

The rest of the two hour ride had been spent in silence. Logan had refused to look at her, and she had refused to start up conversation.

Rolling onto her stomach Rory clutched a pillow to her chest. Flipping aimlessly through the channels on TV, she half listened for something in a language she understood. The sound of her cell phone ringing interrupted her motions and she was more than a little relieved at the opportunity to lessen the monotony.

"Hello?" She asked, not recognizing the number.

"Rory? This is Max," Oh god, she thought. I'm not ready for this.

"Hi Max," she said a little hesitantly. "How did you get my number?" Was that rude? She wondered. She didn't want to talk to him, but she didn't want to be rude either. Yesterday had been a mistake? Maybe not a mistake but she hadn't been thinking clear, she needed a chance to think clear.

"Well I tried to get it from Logan, but his phone must be off, he's not answering. I ended up calling our dear friend Finn." He said, and Rory could hear the laughter in his voice.

"Oh Finney!" Rory said eagerly, Finn was a safe topic. Even the mere mention of his name practically eliminated awkwardness. "How is my favourite Australian?"

"Drunk." Max said, this time his laughter echoed through the phone.

"I don't know why I even bothered asking," Rory smiled.

"So I was wondering," Max said. Rory could hear his smirk on the other end, and suddenly she remembered exactly why she was avoiding him. "What are you doing this afternoon?" he asked.

"This afternoon? I don't know," she answered. "I'm in the process of trying to find an English station on TV. Odds are I'll give up in a little then take a nap. What are vacations for if not lazing about?" she asked, hoping that he might catch on to her reluctance.

"Well maybe you could interrupt you relaxation and go out to dinner with me." Clearly there was a language barrier, as her subtle hints had no effect on him. Or, she considered for a moment, the hints didn't go over his head he was just choosing to ignore them.

"Uh, sure." Rory said. "I just have to be home by nine."

"Do your grandparents have you on curfew or something?"

Rory laughed despite herself. She'd never had a curfew in her life. "No, I just promised Logan that I'd go to some party with him tonight." Rory wondered if Logan still wanted to go with her. He had only asked her in passing, and that was before the ski trip had screwed up their dynamic, and before the undefined kiss in the pool.

"I'm going myself why don't we just go together?" Max asked.

"Uh, sure, I guess, why not?" She replied, without any reason to say no. Logan hadn't exclusively asked her, and frankly it was simply easier to focus on Max who she would never see after this week than Logan who would be following her home.

"Perfect. I'll pick you up at seven." Max said before hanging up.

Rory stared blankly at her phone for a moment. She then spent another thirty seconds flipping through TV channels, before finally gathering up enough courage to dial Logan's increasingly familiar number.

"Yeah?" Logan answered.

"I thought you weren't answering your phone." Rory blurted out before she could stop herself.

"I make exceptions for beautiful women." He answered, his quick wit clearly not marred by their icy communications from the days before.

"My mother would say 'flattery will get you everywhere'. But then again, she did get pregnant at sixteen." She replied, the ease of the banter falling back into place.

"What can I do for you?" Logan laughed

"I was actually calling about the party tonight."

"Yeah," Logan said, his voice picking up in excitement. It really was as if nothing had happened between them. "I was thinking we could grab dinner together or something before heading over. There is this great burger joint downtown I think you'll love."

Rory paused. "Well actually, I was calling because Max asked me to dinner."

"Oh." Logan said. He paused for a moment before continuing. "Well if you want to stay at the house after instead of going to the party I understand..." he drifted off.

"Logan!" Rory cried, astounded at his words. "I just met the guy for godsake!"

"Yeah, well you looked pretty cozy up at the hill yesterday." Rory couldn't be certain, but underneath his bitter tone she thought she heard relief.

"For the record that hill was a mountain." She said, ignoring the rest of his comment before carrying on with what she was going to ask at the beginning of the conversation. "The real reason for my calling is that we were wondering if we could just meet you at the party."

"We, being you and Max?" Logan asked, not that he really needed clarification.

"Yes, we being me and Max."

"Yeah sure," he replied easily. Wow, Rory thought. What a turnaround from yesterday. They had a two-way conversation and he didn't sound as if he wanted to rip her head off. It felt strange, almost too easy. It was like he didn't even care.

"Okay... I guess I'll see you later tonight then?"

"Alright, later Rory."

"Bye Logan."

Closing his phone with a snap Logan pinched the bridge of his nose before shouting to one in particular, "Fuck."

Flipping his phone back open he punched in Finn's phone number with more force than necessary. After the fourth ring Finn's voice broke though.

"Hello ladies, metrosexuals, and all others good-looking. Leave your name, number, and the color of your underwear and I'll return your call in order of preference." Beep.

"Finn you git!" Logan hissed into his phone. "First you bitch me out for twenty minutes emasculating me and comparing me to your eight year old cousin Parko, but needing your help I take it all in stride. Then you say let her come to me, you tell me when she does invite her to dinner. I do all of this. Then you go behind my back and give that fucker her phone number as if I don't exist. Just in case you hadn't heard they're now going to dinner together, and the plans that Rory and I made days ago are being cancelled so she can spend more time with that treacherous prick. I swear, if you were within a hundred mile radius of me I would find you, grab you by the collar, and slam my fist –" Beep.

"If you are happy with your message press one or hang up now, if you wish to re-record press two, for other options press three."

Logan sighed, took a deep breath and pressed two.

"You suck." Logan said, before closing his phone. Clearly he had done something horrible in a past life because he certainly hadn't done anything in this one to deserve this. Bringing Rory here was quite likely the worst idea anyone on the face of the planet has ever had. Fine, maybe that whole 'what could Hitler possibly do' thing was a little worse. And maybe whoever decided that it was okay to make spandex in plus sizes was a little off as well; but this came a close third.

After staring at the ceiling for a good fifteen minutes, Logan stood up with determination. He wasn't finished yet.

*******

At twenty to seven Rory patiently sat on the edge of her bed. She had started getting ready at six o'clock expecting to take her normal hour of primping, but by twenty after she had showered, done her hair, and changed. Now all she could do was sit alone, thinking.

She had tried to use up some time by considering another outfit, but in truth she thought she looked alright. A pair of dark jeans, flats and a form fitting t-shirt seemed appropriate. She could have thrown on a clingy dress or something a little more revealing. Hell, she could have tossed on a pair of heels. But something inside her just wasn't up for it.

Images of cars flicked across the screen as 'Pimp my Ride' played. This, unfortunately, was the only program being played in English. It of course had German subtitles flashing across the bottom of the screen. They would have been distracting if she had been paying attention.

The doorbell rang. Looking at her bedside clock the numbers read 6:45. Normally she wouldn't be near ready, but today she just grabbed a jacket and her purse before walking down the steps. She was coming down the corridor just as Logan was coming out of the kitchen.

"You look nice Ace," Logan smiled.

"Thank you," she said, a slight blush rising in her neck. "What are you all dressed up for?" she asked in reference to his dress shirt and leather shoes.

"I hope you don't mind," he said lightly. "But when you cancelled on me I called up Sonja. We're heading out to dinner before the party."

"Oh," Rory said while walking with him towards the door. "I thought she was dating Chris."

"They have a casual relationship." He answered simply.

"I see," Rory replied slightly confused, before opening the door.

"Sonja!" Logan greeted, kissing the petite blonde on both cheeks. "You remember Rory?"

"Of course," she smiled. "You're sleeping with Max right?"

"No, I'm not." Rory said shaking her head and wondering for the first time what was being said in German behind her back.

"Maybe I have the translation wrong. I'm not very good with English." She said with a smile that suggested her English was just fine and that she knew exactly what she was saying.

"We're just going out to dinner." Rory said trying to make it clear that it was all they were doing.

"Oh, yeah, I think he mentioned that." Sonja said, her smirk never leaving her face.

"Yeah," Rory said slowly, looking behind Sonja for any sight of him. "I'm ready a little early is all."

"You ready to go?" Logan asked Sonja.

"Yep," she beamed. "It was nice seeing you again Rory."

"You too," Rory smiled. "See you later tonight Logan."

"Later Ace."

Rory watched as Logan and Sonja took off down the road. Sitting herself down in the front foyer, she waited. Max arrived at 7:20.

Rory opened the door with a smile.

"Sorry," Max said when he saw her. "Are you not ready?" He eyed her outfit with curious eyes.

"I am," Rory said looking down. Okay, maybe she should have put on heels, but it's not like there were stains on her top or anything.

"Oh," Max said. "I guess I forgot to tell you. The place where we're having dinner, it has a dress code. You'll need a dress of some sort."

"Oh, okay. Just give me a minute I guess." Rory said, her smile stiffening. She walked upstairs letting him wait in the foyer. Max hadn't seemed like the type to do classy restaurants. She was hoping for a break from the constant socialite parties, but who knows, maybe she was casting judgement too early. Fancy could be fun.

Ten minutes later she was walking back down the stairs. This time in a black halter dress with a pair of peek toe heels.

"You look beautiful," Max said kissing her cheek. "Ready?"

The restaurant was nice enough. It was an Italian restaurant with dim overhead lighting and candles on all the tables. It would have been almost romantic if there weren't also middle-aged German couples about. But Rory didn't let herself think about that.

The waiter brought them wine without their asking, and when Rory would have ordered her meal Max ordered for her.

"You'll love it. I promise," He said with a wide grin.

They talked for a little, mainly about Germany and Max's childhood. Rory was particularly interested in the parts Logan played in it, and heard her fair share of stories. Many had her laughing uncontrollably while the other customers looked on annoyed.

Max had a way of capturing attention. When he got excited he would forget himself and start talking with his hands. It was cute, and a little thrilling. He was mien was addictive and for a while she was able to forget about everything that had been bothering her. The date was actually going extremely well until the food arrived.

*******

Meanwhile what should have been a normal party was causing Logan serious mental distress. There were the typical drunk guys groping drunk girls, and drunk girls throwing themselves at drunk guys. The music was blaring and the general feeling was one of sexual desire and expectation. Well, for everyone except Logan. Logan was busy staring at the living room clock wondering not for the first time that night what Rory and Max could possibly be doing that would make dinner last so long.

His first thought was that the date went horrible. That Max had said something mildly offensive and Rory had stood up in the middle of the restaurant, thrown her napkin at him, and stormed out with everyone watching. Clearly Max would be too embarrassed to show himself at the party and it would obviously take Rory a while to walk. It was a good thought until he remembered that Rory had no idea where the party was.

"Logan baby," Sonja purred in his ear interrupting his thoughts. "Why won't you dance with me?"

"I'm just not in a dancing mood."

"Well what kind of a mood are you in?" she asked, letting her hand drift along his waist and down to stroke his inner thigh.

"I'm in the mood for a drink Sonja. Do you think you can handle that?" He said rather harshly.

She sent him her most seductive smile. "I can handle that, can you?" Logan rolled his eyes and watched as she disappeared into the crowd. That had been a mistake, in his plotting he'd forgotten how clingy Sonja was.

But back to Rory, clearly something had happened. There must have been an accident or something, traffic... or maybe there was a crying German child and Rory, being the humanitarian that she is, tried to help them. Of course the language barrier would clearly be a problem and they would spend forever using Max as a translator. Okay, so less than realistic, but at least it didn't have Rory wandering foreign streets lost and alone at night.

Or, his favourite option: Max had forgotten about the date and Rory was waiting back at the house seriously pissed off.

Of course all these ideas did very little to block out the most prominent and seemingly likely scenario: They were busy getting to know each other back at the house after he took her to a fantastically chic restaurant with delicious food, and the best coffee in all of Germany.

He was screwed.

"Here's your drink baby," Sonja cooed as she appeared beside him. After he took the drink from her she slid her hands into the back pockets of his pants. She looked stared up at him as she rubbed her chest against him in what might have been dancing if it wasn't such a deliberately obvious suggestion. It was clear that Rory and Max weren't even a passing thought in Sonja's mind... so why couldn't he get them out of his head?

Logan downed his beer in one swig.

This was quite possible the most stressful vacation he'd ever been on.

*******

Rory stared at her plate unsure of what to say. A look to Max confirmed her original thought: he had no idea what he had done wrong.

"Prost!" He said raising his glass to her. She replicated his movements and drank deeply, wine seemed like a fantastic solution to her problems. Despite it being an Italian restaurant, he had ordered himself a huge steak; which as he cut into she could tell was cooked to perfection. He had a side of potatoes that glistened with spices and butter as well as a pile of steamed vegetables. She could feel her mouth water as he continued to cut his steak.

She looked down at her plate in slight disgust. Not that it didn't look edible; As far as salads go it looked delicious. But who wants to eat salad when they can have a plump juicy steak and butter glazed potatoes? Not to mention, salad is an appetizer, a side dish. Which is exactly what she thought it was when the waiter had brought it over: a side to her delicious, medium rare steak that was marinating in its own glorious juices.

A salad is not an entree.

Trying to be polite Rory smiled as she chewed her lettuce. She practically inhaled the crotons considering they were the only item on her plate with any source of nutritional value.

Thirty minutes later Rory watched as Max polished off his potatoes. All that food and he didn't offer her a single bite. Okay, well they didn't know each other that well; she tried to make excuses for him. It's a different country. Maybe it's a culture thing...

Screw that, her mind shouted, culture or no culture, it's inhumane to feed people rabbit food, especially when steak is an option. Not to mention that they'd already locked lips which meant that regardless of cultural norms sharing food was always going to be a viable option.

"How was your salad?" Max asked as he raised his hand to catch the attention of a waiter.

"Delicious," she lied. After all, she had the rest of the night to spend with him; it wouldn't do to scare her date away so early in the evening.

After Max had paid the bill he and Rory began the drive back to the Huntzberger's chalet. They had both decided to get changed before the party, and Rory couldn't be happier at the prospect. She spent the better portion of the drive pretending to listen to Max explain why his stepmother's scandal with their maid enabled him to spend countless dollars on cars. Why? She'd asked absentmindedly, well simply put his father would want in on it. Under normal circumstances it would have been both intriguing and entertaining, but at present 60% of her mind was focused on not letting her stomach grumble embarrassingly loud. The other 40% was divided with 6% focused on appearing attentive to Max while making the appropriate "oh" and "ah" sounds, and the remaining 34% was spent on her ingenious plan to change and eat in the amount of time it would normally take to change. As it stood, she just didn't have enough brain power to find genuine humour at the prospect of Max's sixty something father begging his twenty something wife to three-way with the him and the maid.

Max had helped her slightly in her planning, if only that his assumption of her being an anorexic bimbo suggested that he would assume it would take her at least twenty minutes for her to put on jeans and a cardigan. During this time she planned to go upstairs, via the main staircase then run down the hall, take the staff stairwell down to the basement where she had two options. Option one: if time was running short she could eat a half-pint of ice cream from the basement freezer. Option two: if there was sufficient time remaining she could cross the basement, take the east stairwell to the main floor, tiptoe to the kitchen without crossing the main foyer, reheat last night's delicious honey garlic duck, hurry back downstairs, then to the second floor using the staff stairwell and finally back down the main staircase fed and changed for the party. The thought was exhausting, but that could have been the malnourishment kicking in.

There were two problems with these options. Option one: there was no room in her plan for a means of obtaining a spoon. Option two: Max would surly hear the microwave and if not hear it then he would at least smell the duck. What? It was delicious duck.

"Really?" she said off hand to something Max had just said. "What did you do?"

Clearly option two was the only feasible one. If she were to eat ice cream without a spoon as option one would require, she would likely get frost bite and her schedule didn't allot time for the defrosting or cleaning of her hands. So a revised plan... we go with option two, but don't reheat the duck, and also grab cutlery. This enables the Olympic method of walking and eating as well as the possibility of a bonus round pick up of ice cream on the way back through. I should probably get changed first, she thought. That way if she did run out of time she wouldn't be stumbling over her words, duck in hand, still in her cocktail dress and heels. Yes, she thought. The heels will have to go.

"We're here," Max said, breaking through her thoughts. She smiled in reply. She might not have been athletic, but starvation was a great motivator. Already she was feeling the adrenaline pumping through her veins at the idea of eating something other than... lettuce. Mmm... half baked ice cream... Revised option two was a serious go ahead. It was silly that option one didn't involve a combo attack to begin with. Seriously, what solves undernourishment better together than duck and ice cream? Nothing, that's the point.

Max parked the car and Rory let them into the house.

"I'll just be a couple minutes." She said. She walked slowly up the stairs until she was out of sight. Then she pulled off her heels and ran. When she got to her room she already had the knot of her halter undone and was stepping out of it as she shut the door. Within seconds she had her jeans on. Her t-shirt followed and she was pushing her arms into the sleeves of a cardigan when she heard footsteps coming down the hall.

With absolutely no reason to, she froze.

There was a light knock on her door and then it cracked open. Max's head popped in. His stunned look of surprise probably matched her own. If she hadn't been in a complete rush to get food Max would have probably walked in on her naked as she was deciding what to wear. Oh god, she thought. That was probably the point.

"I told you I'd only be a couple minutes." She said with a nervous laugh. Max stepped into her room and gently shut the door behind him. He walked forward and she gave him a tentative smile. "What?" she said with an anxious smile. Instead of answering her he bent his head and caught her lips with his own. It was gentle and sweet. Rory returned it tentatively; still unsure of what was happening. Max let his hands slide into her hair and Rory involuntarily let out a sigh of satisfaction. Just because she was confused did not mean that she couldn't appreciate talent when it presented itself. Max was a good kisser. Somewhere at the back of her mind thoughts were racing, and her stomach was ready to growl, but for a moment she forgot about all of it and let herself get lost in the kiss. Because that is what she had trying to do all day, get lost.

After a few moments Max deepened the kiss, darting his tongue into her mouth to touch hers. His hands left her hair and slid down to the hem of her shirt where he started to rub circles into the soft skin of her hips. The change of pace and positions was like a jolt to Rory who suddenly realized what was happening, and where Max intended for this to go. While kissing Max was nice... more than nice, she would admit, Sonja's words were echoing in her mind and all she could think about was what kind of stories would be told about her after she left Germany.

"We should," Rory tried to get out between kisses, "Go."

"Mmm..." Max sounded in agreement, though he continued to kiss her, letting his hands slid up the back of her shirt.

"Max," Rory said gently. "Max," more forcefully this time as she brought herself to push his hands away.

"What?" he asked in German, the words coming out in a deep whisper.

"We should get to the party." She didn't know what Max saw when he looked into her eyes, but it certainly wasn't "I plan to have sex with you tonight" because he just nodded and said "Grab your shoes," before walking out of the room. Stunned Rory grabbed her flats and hurried after him. She did not want to be in her bedroom with Max still in the house. Hunger forgotten, she just wanted to get to the party and forget that the night had ever happened.

*******

Music was pulsing through the air. Logan had found a secluded corner in the basement to hide out and hadn't seen Sonja for the better part of an hour. With luck on his side she would have found a more willing partner to latch onto and he wouldn't have to deal with her for the rest of the evening.

Avoiding Sonja had proven a fantastic distraction to his worrying about Rory. It was almost 10:30 and he hadn't seen her or Max yet. He thought he might have heard Max's name cheered earlier, but the more he thought about it the more he considered it to be some form of projection where he was hearing what he wanted to hear. The truth was that if Max and Rory were going straight from the restaurant to the party then they should have arrived at least an hour earlier. He didn't want to think any more about what was taking them so long if they had already left the restaurant. The worst part was that Logan knew Max's game. He was frequently Max's wingman, and the more he thought about that, the guiltier her felt at letting Rory walk into the lion's den without so much as a whisper of warning. In fact, he had practically walked her to the entrance and introduced her. He could almost see her innocent eyes as she gracefully walked forward to her doom.

"Are those chips?" Logan almost had a heart attack at those words. He let his eyes focus on the beautiful brunette standing in front of him, and for a moment was stunned by the fact that he had somehow failed to notice her walk right up to him.

"Hey, how was the date?" he asked, relief at Rory's sudden presence momentarily brightening his mood.

"Fine, are those chips?" she asked, her face flushed and her words slightly slurred. Hunger and alcohol had bridged what should have been an awkward gap. She had, after all, been avoiding him since their skiing debacle.

"Yes they are... where's your date?"

"I sent him to get more drinks," she said offhand. "Now please," she pleaded, giving him the most desperate and innocent eyes he had ever seen on her. "Please, have a soul." In her tipsy state she gripped his arm as if tugging on it would sway his opinion.

"I'm not sure I follow."

"I used the last of my dwindling energy to make it down the stairs," she said reaching for the chips he had in his hand. He raised his eyebrow at that, and instantly wished he hadn't. The only thing worse than thinking Rory was having sex with Max would be to actually find out it was true. The fact that she had been drinking a lot didn't help the matter. Alcohol could have easily changed her 'I just met the guy' mentality to one where they were soul mates. "Not like that!" she cried slapping his arm as she saw the look he was giving her. "I won't be able to make it back up the stairs without some form of sustenance." She sighed as she munched on the stolen chips.

"I take it the date went well then?" Logan asked slightly sarcastic. He was feeling beyond better that Rory hadn't slept with Max. He didn't care that she was late, and his relief helped bring back some of the ease of their typical banter. It also helped that in her increasingly drunken state that she remembered less and less of what an ass he'd been.

Rory stopped eating to consider his question. "Do I have a hairy face?" she asked.

"Uh... no."

"How about my ears? Are they unnaturally large?"

"I wouldn't say unnatural, they look pretty normal to me."

"Then are they furry or something?"

"I don't know let me check," he teased reaching to touch her ears. Her skin felt hot to the touch and she blushed as he gently tucked her hair behind her ears. "No," he said quickly removing his hand "Certainly not furry."

"Then why, oh why, would Max assume that I was a rabbit?" she asked. Logan stared at her with absolutely no clue as to what was going on. Wondering if she had tripped and fallen on her head he let himself look for any visible signs of injury. When that turned up nothing he shook his head letting her know he had zero clue as to how he should answer such a ridiculous question. "He ordered me a salad," she said matter-of-factly.

"No!" Logan cried sarcastically. "Your childhood dream of getting scurvy has been ruined! Tonight will set you back months, not to mention the relapse in your training could prevent you from ever competing on an international level!"

"I'm serious Logan! Her ordered me a salad," she said. "As an entrée!"

"Seriously?" Logan asked, astounded at his good fortune. Max may have won at getting a date, but he'd managed to screw up his game and leave Logan holding all the chips. Figuratively speaking of course since Rory had eaten all of his actual chips.

"I think there were some pretzels on the coffee table," Logan said.

"Bless you!" she cheered, taking his offered arm as they started to walk. "This is horrible, the alcohol is having twice the effect on me because there is nothing in my stomach, and if Max sees me eating he'll know I hated the salad."

"Besides fasting how did the rest of the date go?" he asked, before he could stop himself.

"Okay I guess." She said. "We talked about you a lot."

"Really?" he asked, giving her a mischievous smirk. "I'm flattered."

"Oh you should be," she said playing along as Logan grabbed the pretzel bowl off the coffee table and held it out to her. "There were a number of very entertaining stories about your youth." Logan groaned audibly. "Oh yeah," she said with a wicked grin before gobbling down a couple handfuls of pretzels.

"I forgot that Max witnessed most of it." She continued to smile at his embarrassment. "I think the best solution," he said returning the bowl to the coffee table, "is to get you incredibly drunk so you forget about your hunger and the mental distress at being mistaken for a rabbit."

"A cute rabbit!" she interjected.

"An adorable rabbit," he said with honesty.

"Just so you're aware, no amount of alcohol will make me forget what you did to headmaster Bowman's daughter back stage during the charity auction."

"Oh god, you got all the way to high school? Let's get you another drink sooner rather than later."

"So long as it's not a tequila sunrise, I heard about what happened with –" Logan slapped his hand over her mouth.

"If you finish that sentence I swear, I will find Max and tell him that you're a relapsing bulimic and to keep you away from carbs." He could feel her lips pout under his hand, and his body reacting in response. With a stern look he slowly removed his hand.

"You wouldn't," she said, half-heartedly challenging him.

"Try me."

They stared at each other for a minute neither wanting to be the first to look away. Who knows how long it would have lasted if Max hadn't stumbled down the stairs and bumped into Rory causing her to stumble into Logan's chest.

"Logan!" Max cheered drunkenly. "Guter freund!"

"Max," Logan laughed, not moving to push Rory away. He rather liked where she was, and this was the second time Max had unknowingly pushed her into his arms that evening. "I hear your date went well." Rory stomped on his foot before he could continue.

"We went to a great Italian restaurant," Rory said, taking a deliberate step away from Logan, she still had enough sense for that.

Max handed Rory her drink before sputtering off a long string of German to Logan. Slightly concerned about the transaction, Rory wasn't quite sure what was being said. She didn't enjoy being in the dark, and not understanding was a rather unpleasant feeling, one of the reasons she'd decided early on in life to become a journalist.

"Möchten Sie tanzen?" Max asked, looking to Rory. Rory stared at him blankly, broken away from her thoughts. Sie tanzen was one of the phrases from her book, but she couldn't remember what it meant or if it was from the serious phrase book her grandparents had bought her, or the X rated one Lorelai had found on the internet.

"He wants to know if you want to dance," Logan supplied.

"Uh..." she paused. Max smirked and grabbed hold of Rory's hands and leading her towards the staircase.

"Come with me." He said. "I'll teach you everything I know."

"This I have to see," Logan said, before following them up the stairs.

Once they reached the dance floor Max gave a gentle tug on her hand to lead her into the throng of dancing bodies. "I'll see you later Logan," Rory said over her shoulder, giving him a small smile.

There were quite a few people dancing, and Max led her into the center of it all. People seemed to make room for him here, and before she knew it a small circle of open space had been created around the two of them.

Rory let her arms slide around Max's neck and he took hold of her hips with his. It felt strange to be this close and intimate with him after what had happened at the house, but there wasn't much she could do about it. The alcohol at least seemed to be making things easier. They started to sway their hips with the music, and Rory's thoughts started to wonder. With the close proximity Rory didn't have to look him in the eye and instead focused on the gold chain at the base of his neck.

Logan watched from the side of the room as Rory nuzzled Max's neck. It was infuriating in the most depressing and demoralizing way. Catching sight of Sonja as she stumbled towards him he downed his drink before grabbing her hand and making his way onto the dance floor.

"Logan!" Sonja, giggled. Fighting to not roll his eyes he led her towards where he last saw Rory and Max dancing.

"Couldn't leave us alone couldn't you?" Max asked Logan.

"Couldn't let you show me up more like." He joked in reply. Logan managed to dance with Sonja for two songs before he couldn't handle it anymore. Spinning Sonja out towards Max he watched his friend catch her predictably. That girl had had way to much to drink, and very soon was going to need someone to take care of her... With luck that someone would be Max.

"Oh so that's how it's going to be." Logan joked. "Alright then Rory, let's show them how it's done." Grabbing her hand, Logan pulled her in close and started to dance with her. The music changed to a fast pulsing beat, and laughing Rory let her arms circle around Logan's neck. Alcohol emboldening her movement, she let her hands slide over Logan's back, and their hips grind together. As the music's pace quickened so did their movements. Sweat began to collect on Rory's forehead and she buried her head into Logan's neck so as not to have it drip into her eyes. Giving herself a moment to completely give in to the music, she realized that despite the drama that her life had developed in Germany that she was actually having fun.

They stayed like that, dancing. Hips swaying side to side, hands touching, skin grazing. If Rory had taken a moment to stop and think about the situation it would have been embarrassing, but between the music, the movement, and the alcohol, there was no room for modesty. The song slowed down, and ended, but neither her nor Logan moved. Neither had any intention of doing anything but continue dancing.

Three o'clock rolled around and the majority of the guests had disappeared. Between her arrival and her most recent dance, Rory had managed to consume three beers and two glasses of the suspicious yet delicious punch off the counter. A lot of alcohol for a small person, not to mention the lack of food in her stomach, and the half bottle of wine she'd had at the restaurant. She was toast.

She waited outside with Max as everyone organized rides home. Logan had left to get their coats a couple of minutes ago, and Sonja was chatting with a group of people Rory hadn't met. Max's arm had found its way around her waist and Rory couldn't remember how long it had been there. Regardless, she was happy for its warmth as well as the support it provided in keeping her standing.

"Kommen Sie nach hause mit mir." Max whispered in her ear.

"Max," Rory giggled, "You know if don't speak German."

"I can teach you," he said. "Stirn," he whispered, kissing her forehead. "Ohr," he moved to her earlobe, "backe," grazing her cheek, "nase," he kissed her nose. Closing her eyes, Rory let out a sigh. "Und lippen," Max whispered, before capturing her lips in his.

Suspended for a moment, Rory kissed him back. Somewhere in the background she heard Sonja's giggle, and cars pulling away from the house. All the nights earlier awkwardness aside, Max was still a fantastic kisser.

"Kommen Sie nach hause mit mir." Max repeated, kissing her deeper so that regardless of language his meaning was clear.

"I think..." Rory said between kisses, "that I should get home."

"Got the coats," Logan's voice came from inside the house, before he emerged at the front door.

"We can share a cab," Max said, still holding her close.

"It makes more sense for me to leave with Logan," Rory said as he stepped out onto the porch and handed her her coat. "Right?"

"What's going on?" Logan asked, noting but ignoring the arm that held possessively onto Rory.

"I was just telling Max that you and I will drive together since we live at the same house."

"Sure," Logan said, mentally throwing a fist pump. His inner cheering distracted him for a moment, so he didn't see Max as he leaned down to kiss Rory and convince her otherwise. It certainly stopped when Rory kissed Max back, and for a moment he thought he was going to be sick.

"Logan, kommen mit?" Sonja yelled from the cab that had just pulled up.

Rory pulled herself away from Max, and waited for Logan's reply. She didn't speak the language, but she knew what the question meant. She watched as Logan prattled off in German, and then as Sonja yelled across the yard to the group of guys she was talking to earlier. One of them gave a shout before running down to the cab and waving goodbye to his friends.

"We should go." Rory said, wiggling out of Max's hold. She stumbled a little and Logan caught her with a laugh. "Ace, how much have you had to drink tonight?"

"Only a... lot." She said smiling up at him. "Can we go now?" Staring down into her crystal eyes, Logan took a deep breath. It may be the most torturous vacation ever, but he doubted at that moment if he could deny her anything.

"Come on," He said. "Max, wir sehen Sie spatter."

"Tschuss" Max called, as Logan led Rory towards a car that was apparently waiting for them. He spoke to the driver for a second before leading Rory around to the front. He climbed in and offered Rory his hand.

"Where am I supposed to sit?" She asked.

"Right here," Logan said, tapping his lap with a smirk. "You're not planning on walking are you?" With a glare Rory climbed onto his lap. Glancing into the back seat she realized that it really was a full car with four people squished into the back seat.

"Is this safe?" she asked Logan. He just shrugged in reply, and the car pulled away. Rory watched the house recede into the background from the side view mirror, before leaning her head onto Logan's shoulder. "I had fun tonight." With a yawn, Rory closed her eyes.

Arms wrapped around her waist, Logan enveloped himself in her warmth. He tuned out the chatter in the car, and the obnoxious ramblings of his friends. Breathing through his nose, he caught the lingering scent of her shampoo. He let his lips find the top of her head before turning to look out the window.

"Me too, Ace." Logan said with a sigh. "Me too."