Gilmore Girls: Wallow
Title: Wallow
Author: Nat
Rating: PG13
Fandom: Gilmore Girls
Pairing: Rory/Logan
Genre: Humour
Word Count: 2700
Warning/Spoilers: None.
Summary: Rory develops a theory of wallowing after an encounter with Logan.
Wallow
She should have known something like this would happen. Hadn’t she learnt from past experiences? Surely she knew better by now. Her theory was valid, the conclusion legitimate.
Putting off her wallowing for a day or so after breaking up with Dean the first time had seen her kissing Tristan at a party.
She had definitely wallowed the second time round and then fallen into a relationship with Jess, which had pretty much been why Dean had broken up with her. Still it was all a part of validating the theory.
She had broken up with Jess, or more to the point, he had up and left her, still she had put off her wallowing which in turn had led to that incident in Amsterdam when she had taken off to Europe with her mother.
This time though, she had put off wallowing for weeks and it had led to her sleeping with Logan.
God!
Why couldn’t she learn her lessons easily the first time round? If you put off wallowing, it had a way of making bad things happen!
Alright, so sleeping with Logan hadn’t been bad, so much as it had been really, really good.
Not the point. She still hadn’t wallowed about the last break up with Dean. That’s why she had slept with Logan. She should probably wallow tonight if for no other reason than to stop this kind of thing from happening again.
She would get a few pints of ice cream and load up on junk and go through the entire catalogue of the John Hughes pre-eighty seven movies. She would get this feeling out of her if she had to eat until she vomited it out.
That was the best thing to do. Right?
So why wasn’t the thought of it making her feel better?
She turned over and buried her head into the pillow again. She had left him sleeping in his bed, had snuck out of the house he shared with Colin and Finn like, like… like how she expected Logan to behave! Except of course she had ended up in his bed, not him in her bed… Was it a preemptive strike on her behalf? Or had she just jumped to conclusions again?
Rory was beginning to see just how good she was at jumping to conclusions, particularly when it came to Logan.
So maybe her running at four in the morning hadn’t been a good idea. Maybe he was the kind of guy who liked to cuddle in the morning. Rory snorted and flipped back over again.
Ok, maybe he was the kind of guy who would wake up with a girl, and he’d let them shower, then he’d take them out for coffee, get a number and promise to call. Hell, maybe he even did call.
Not that she would ever find out. Rory hadn’t paused for a second to even consider finding a piece of paper on his mess of a desk to leave her number.
Rory flipped onto her back and watched as the sky gradually lightened through the crooked curtains over her window. She wasn’t going to get any sleep tonight. This morning. Today. Whatever.
She hadn’t slept for close to twenty four hours now and she had a meeting at the paper at eleven. She was going to need coffee to get through the day. Lots of it.
Dragging herself out of bed, she made her way into the bathroom and stripped while she waited for the hot water to run. She flinched from the site of her naked body in the floor length shower-wall mirror.
Bruises and bite marks covered her in places she hadn’t even realized Logan had seen, let alone licked. Admittedly, most of the bruises were from the football match she had been dragged into by Finn… Apparently, Australian footballers don’t wear any kind of padding… and in the spirit of whatever national holiday Finn had sacrificed himself to the sunlight for, it required a game of tackle rugby where they actually threw the ball backwards.
Rory didn’t know much about any kind of sport, but even she knew that the idea of the game of football was to get it in the end zone, by going forward, not backwards… In any case, she had surprisingly had lots of fun with everyone she had met. And with only one early morning class the late mornings activities had continued on through lunch and into the afternoon, the afternoon had flowed into evening then into the night.
Now night was flowing into morning and Rory was regretting accepting the ‘fortifying’ drinks in the middle of the rugby game because now that she could see herself, she hurt. She had never realised that alcohol could mask so many aches and pains and oh god!
That wasn’t a bruise, that was one huge hickey! When had Logan had his mouth on her leg? There? Oh yeah, she remembered now, it was right before he had-
“Rory! Are you going to be long? I need to use the bathroom just as much as you do you know!” Paris’s voice penetrated the flimsy door.
“I won’t be long.”
“Just hurry up, Gilmore. Some of us aren’t natural Snow Whites.”
Rory listened as Paris stomped away before climbing into the hot spray. Wetting her hair she started to tally up points, bruise made by big foot? Point rugby. Five round fingerprints on her hip? Point Logan.
Quickly she closed her eyes and rushed through washing her hair. Logan was beginning to have a few too many more points than the rugby game, and it wasn’t something Rory wanted to think about right now. Especially not with Paris bashing on the door telling her to hurry up every thirty seconds.
Wrapping one towel around her wet hair and the other around herself she stepped out of the bathroom and glowered at Paris whose narrowed eyes widened comically.
“My god!” She reached out as if to rip the towel from Rory who stepped back. “Rory, who did this to you? Are you okay? God, what happened?”
“Rugby happened.”
“Excuse me?” Paris’s eyes got wider then narrowed again. “What did you say?”
“The bruises are from playing rugby yesterday. I’m fine Mama Cass, back off.”
“You played rugby?”
“Not willingly, and there were tequila slammers involved somewhere too.”
“Well, that would explain the rugby then.” Rory nodded and stepped around Paris, reaching to shut her bedroom door behind her. “Doesn’t explain the love bites though, Mary.”
Rory slammed her door and winced. Clothes then coffee and god help anyone who gets in her way of that coffee. Pulling on a bra and underwear felt fine. The rest though, felt like she was moving through wet cement. Everything hurt. Her skin, her muscles, her hair. What had she done to deserve this? Right, Logan.
Grabbing her heavy bag, she threw it over her shoulder with effort and limped out the front door calling back to Paris that she would see her in the newsroom. If she didn’t die from pain before she got there anyway.
Dropping her bag onto a table in her favourite coffee shop-cum-bookshop-cum-music store on campus she threw herself into one of the two small wooden chairs. And immediately stood up again. Okay, wooden chairs were out today, perhaps that big smooshy armchair by the window then.
It was early for a Saturday still, especially for a university campus. Rory figured she would have a few hours peace and quiet to work on her article that she needed to hand in at the meeting today. The meeting at the paper, where Logan managed to spend at least an hour each day at, the meeting Logan was meant to be at. Damn.
Was it too much to ask that this be the meeting he didn’t turn up to? After all, it’s not like he actually contributed when he was there, and besides he hadn’t had much more sleep than ten minutes before she had snuck out on him, surely a pretty boy like him needed his beauty sleep?
She sipped at the thick black coffee and dug through her notes pulling out her article and a purple pen. Not red, it made her feel like a kindergartener.
Two hours, an espresso and three coffees later the beep of her watch let her know that it was time to head over to the newspaper office. Uncurling slowly she winced as her body readjusted painfully to movement again.
While her body was slow, her mind was going a million miles an hour. If Logan turned up, how should she act? Like it never happened? Like she wanted it to happen again? Not that she did of course, definitely not. How would he act? Would he even turn up at all? And if he didn’t what did that mean?
Why did boys have to be so damn hard!
Why wasn’t there some kind of flow chart that would simplify all the problems into basic yes-no algorithms? Someone could make a fortune with that.
She let herself into the office and sat at the roundtable with five minutes to spare. No Logan, only Paris ranting at a junior about the ladies amenities. Wow, she was really going to rip that girl a new one.
Rory laid her head down onto her folded arms and closed her eyes. Saving people from Paris was a part time job, but now she just didn’t have the energy. She should have got a double shot espresso to go.
She felt the warmth of his body against her side before his breath hit her ear. “Hey Ace.”
She managed to repress the shudder to a shiver. “Hey Logan.”
“How are you feeling?”
“I’m-”
“Alright everyone, lets get this started!” Doyle’s voice pinged through Rory and her fists clenched in protest.
“You can tell me later.” Rory lifted her head and looked at Logan in time to catch a wink before he leaned back and put his feet up on the table.
Five minutes later he was driving her crazy as he snored next to her while Doyle and Paris argued across the roundtable. Well, not really snoring so much as breathing loudly.
She pushed both his feet off the table with a quick shove and smirked at him as he startled out of sleep, nearly falling off the chair.
“Pay attention.” If she had to, he had to. So there.
Logan leaned in to her, “You know Ace, after the things I did for you last night, you should be a little more grateful, let a guy catch up on his rest, ya know?”
Her blush was immediate and apparent to everyone.
“Gilmore?” Doyle’s sudden attention had her wanting to slip under the table and die.
Logan’s hand on her leg had her sitting up so fast from the slow slump that she hit her elbow on the edge of the table.
“Shit!” Her sharp and sudden profanity put a grin on Logan’s face as he gave her knee a quick squeeze before pulling his hand away. “I’m okay Doyle. I’m fine.”
“Great, you want to fill me in on what you and Logan were talking about? Maybe it has something to do with the last story idea we were talking about?”
“Rory was suggesting that we team up and take on the criminal element thing.”
“Excuse me?” Doyle’s eyes were as wide as Rory’s as she spun to look at Logan. “You’re going to write something?”
“Sure, we’ll take that criminal thing you were talking about.”
“The criminal element of Yale students. Something you’d know about, right Huntzberger?” Paris raised a brow at him.
He winked, “A gentleman never tells Gellar.”
“One thing I have heard about you is that you’re hardly a gentleman” Paris’s eyes flicked to the top of Rory’s turtleneck. Rory felt her face burn again.
“Fine, Gilmore, you get to take care of Huntzberger. Everyone else know what they’re doing? Right, clear out. Out!”
Rory stood and hurried out, she couldn’t face both Logan and Paris, not together. And hopefully by running out she’d lose both of them for a little while.
No such luck though.
Rory stopped at a bench to lean down and retie her shoelace and Logan slumped down next to her foot.
“In a hurry Ace?”
“I can’t deal with anything, anything heavy right now.”
“You calling me heavy? Cause I remember last night you-”
“Paris, Logan, I was talking about Paris.”
He grinned, “I know, I just like how you blush so easily. It’s cute.”
Rory finished tying her shoelace and sat delicately on the hard bench next to Logan.
“So Ace, how are you feeling?” He repeated his initial question.
“Truth?” He nodded. “I hurt. I hurt all over, from my toes to my hair, I hurt.”
Logan’s mouth dropped open. “Did I…”
“No! No, though I’m sure that on top of the rugby yesterday probably didn’t exactly help, I blame this on Finn. And tequila.”
“Ahh tequila, it’s an evil beast.” He grinned at her. “What are your plans for the rest of the day?”
“I’m going to get a few hours sleep then wallow.”
“Excuse me? Wallow?”
“You know, eat a load of junk food, watch classic movies, feel sorry for myself.”
“I know what wallowing is, I want to know what you’re wallowing about. Why.”
“I have this theory.”
Logan gestured with his hand, “And?”
“I didn’t wallow after my last break up with Dean you see, that’s why I slept with you.”
“That’s the theory?”
“There’s more to it than that, but that’s the basics, yeah.”
“So it had nothing to do with my fantastic body, brilliant personality and beautiful face?” He leered at her.
“That might have been about five percent.”
“Five percent? Five?”
“Five, then another ten or so would be tequila, the rest cause I haven’t wallowed.”
“I still don’t get the wallowing thing, Ace.”
Rory sighed and leaned her head tiredly on his shoulder. “Back when I had my first break up with my boyfriend in junior year, I refused to wallow. I ended up going to a party with my friend Lane and ended up kissing a boy that I didn’t particularly like that much.”
“All ‘cause you didn’t wallow?”
“Well, that’s what I figure, I pretty much started crying all over Tristan.” Rory smiled as she remembered the scene. “He was worried he had bit my lip, not likely with all the practice he’d had at kissing. No, I just wasn’t over Dean, hadn’t even begun to mourn the loss of our relationship.”
“Wait, wait, this is the same Dean as the other weekend?”
“Yes.”
“Wow.”
“What wow?”
“You two had been together forever.”
“Let me finish.”
“Let’s walk and talk. Its cold out here and your ass isn’t the only sore one around here.” So Rory explained as they made their way to her dorm, her theory of wallowing. And by the time they got there, Logan had decided that if her theory was valid, he wasn’t going to get it on with her again and with that thought, he made a mental note to join her in her wallowing.
He settled on her couch as she dug around looking for her car keys and the dorm phone to order takeout. She was going to mourn the loss of her relationship with Dean and he was going to mourn the loss of more sex with Rory.
Mildly amused for the 5 minutes it took you to read? Show me a smiley face!
Author: Nat
Rating: PG13
Fandom: Gilmore Girls
Pairing: Rory/Logan
Genre: Humour
Word Count: 2700
Warning/Spoilers: None.
Summary: Rory develops a theory of wallowing after an encounter with Logan.
Wallow
She should have known something like this would happen. Hadn’t she learnt from past experiences? Surely she knew better by now. Her theory was valid, the conclusion legitimate.
Putting off her wallowing for a day or so after breaking up with Dean the first time had seen her kissing Tristan at a party.
She had definitely wallowed the second time round and then fallen into a relationship with Jess, which had pretty much been why Dean had broken up with her. Still it was all a part of validating the theory.
She had broken up with Jess, or more to the point, he had up and left her, still she had put off her wallowing which in turn had led to that incident in Amsterdam when she had taken off to Europe with her mother.
This time though, she had put off wallowing for weeks and it had led to her sleeping with Logan.
God!
Why couldn’t she learn her lessons easily the first time round? If you put off wallowing, it had a way of making bad things happen!
Alright, so sleeping with Logan hadn’t been bad, so much as it had been really, really good.
Not the point. She still hadn’t wallowed about the last break up with Dean. That’s why she had slept with Logan. She should probably wallow tonight if for no other reason than to stop this kind of thing from happening again.
She would get a few pints of ice cream and load up on junk and go through the entire catalogue of the John Hughes pre-eighty seven movies. She would get this feeling out of her if she had to eat until she vomited it out.
That was the best thing to do. Right?
So why wasn’t the thought of it making her feel better?
She turned over and buried her head into the pillow again. She had left him sleeping in his bed, had snuck out of the house he shared with Colin and Finn like, like… like how she expected Logan to behave! Except of course she had ended up in his bed, not him in her bed… Was it a preemptive strike on her behalf? Or had she just jumped to conclusions again?
Rory was beginning to see just how good she was at jumping to conclusions, particularly when it came to Logan.
So maybe her running at four in the morning hadn’t been a good idea. Maybe he was the kind of guy who liked to cuddle in the morning. Rory snorted and flipped back over again.
Ok, maybe he was the kind of guy who would wake up with a girl, and he’d let them shower, then he’d take them out for coffee, get a number and promise to call. Hell, maybe he even did call.
Not that she would ever find out. Rory hadn’t paused for a second to even consider finding a piece of paper on his mess of a desk to leave her number.
Rory flipped onto her back and watched as the sky gradually lightened through the crooked curtains over her window. She wasn’t going to get any sleep tonight. This morning. Today. Whatever.
She hadn’t slept for close to twenty four hours now and she had a meeting at the paper at eleven. She was going to need coffee to get through the day. Lots of it.
Dragging herself out of bed, she made her way into the bathroom and stripped while she waited for the hot water to run. She flinched from the site of her naked body in the floor length shower-wall mirror.
Bruises and bite marks covered her in places she hadn’t even realized Logan had seen, let alone licked. Admittedly, most of the bruises were from the football match she had been dragged into by Finn… Apparently, Australian footballers don’t wear any kind of padding… and in the spirit of whatever national holiday Finn had sacrificed himself to the sunlight for, it required a game of tackle rugby where they actually threw the ball backwards.
Rory didn’t know much about any kind of sport, but even she knew that the idea of the game of football was to get it in the end zone, by going forward, not backwards… In any case, she had surprisingly had lots of fun with everyone she had met. And with only one early morning class the late mornings activities had continued on through lunch and into the afternoon, the afternoon had flowed into evening then into the night.
Now night was flowing into morning and Rory was regretting accepting the ‘fortifying’ drinks in the middle of the rugby game because now that she could see herself, she hurt. She had never realised that alcohol could mask so many aches and pains and oh god!
That wasn’t a bruise, that was one huge hickey! When had Logan had his mouth on her leg? There? Oh yeah, she remembered now, it was right before he had-
“Rory! Are you going to be long? I need to use the bathroom just as much as you do you know!” Paris’s voice penetrated the flimsy door.
“I won’t be long.”
“Just hurry up, Gilmore. Some of us aren’t natural Snow Whites.”
Rory listened as Paris stomped away before climbing into the hot spray. Wetting her hair she started to tally up points, bruise made by big foot? Point rugby. Five round fingerprints on her hip? Point Logan.
Quickly she closed her eyes and rushed through washing her hair. Logan was beginning to have a few too many more points than the rugby game, and it wasn’t something Rory wanted to think about right now. Especially not with Paris bashing on the door telling her to hurry up every thirty seconds.
Wrapping one towel around her wet hair and the other around herself she stepped out of the bathroom and glowered at Paris whose narrowed eyes widened comically.
“My god!” She reached out as if to rip the towel from Rory who stepped back. “Rory, who did this to you? Are you okay? God, what happened?”
“Rugby happened.”
“Excuse me?” Paris’s eyes got wider then narrowed again. “What did you say?”
“The bruises are from playing rugby yesterday. I’m fine Mama Cass, back off.”
“You played rugby?”
“Not willingly, and there were tequila slammers involved somewhere too.”
“Well, that would explain the rugby then.” Rory nodded and stepped around Paris, reaching to shut her bedroom door behind her. “Doesn’t explain the love bites though, Mary.”
Rory slammed her door and winced. Clothes then coffee and god help anyone who gets in her way of that coffee. Pulling on a bra and underwear felt fine. The rest though, felt like she was moving through wet cement. Everything hurt. Her skin, her muscles, her hair. What had she done to deserve this? Right, Logan.
Grabbing her heavy bag, she threw it over her shoulder with effort and limped out the front door calling back to Paris that she would see her in the newsroom. If she didn’t die from pain before she got there anyway.
Dropping her bag onto a table in her favourite coffee shop-cum-bookshop-cum-music store on campus she threw herself into one of the two small wooden chairs. And immediately stood up again. Okay, wooden chairs were out today, perhaps that big smooshy armchair by the window then.
It was early for a Saturday still, especially for a university campus. Rory figured she would have a few hours peace and quiet to work on her article that she needed to hand in at the meeting today. The meeting at the paper, where Logan managed to spend at least an hour each day at, the meeting Logan was meant to be at. Damn.
Was it too much to ask that this be the meeting he didn’t turn up to? After all, it’s not like he actually contributed when he was there, and besides he hadn’t had much more sleep than ten minutes before she had snuck out on him, surely a pretty boy like him needed his beauty sleep?
She sipped at the thick black coffee and dug through her notes pulling out her article and a purple pen. Not red, it made her feel like a kindergartener.
Two hours, an espresso and three coffees later the beep of her watch let her know that it was time to head over to the newspaper office. Uncurling slowly she winced as her body readjusted painfully to movement again.
While her body was slow, her mind was going a million miles an hour. If Logan turned up, how should she act? Like it never happened? Like she wanted it to happen again? Not that she did of course, definitely not. How would he act? Would he even turn up at all? And if he didn’t what did that mean?
Why did boys have to be so damn hard!
Why wasn’t there some kind of flow chart that would simplify all the problems into basic yes-no algorithms? Someone could make a fortune with that.
She let herself into the office and sat at the roundtable with five minutes to spare. No Logan, only Paris ranting at a junior about the ladies amenities. Wow, she was really going to rip that girl a new one.
Rory laid her head down onto her folded arms and closed her eyes. Saving people from Paris was a part time job, but now she just didn’t have the energy. She should have got a double shot espresso to go.
She felt the warmth of his body against her side before his breath hit her ear. “Hey Ace.”
She managed to repress the shudder to a shiver. “Hey Logan.”
“How are you feeling?”
“I’m-”
“Alright everyone, lets get this started!” Doyle’s voice pinged through Rory and her fists clenched in protest.
“You can tell me later.” Rory lifted her head and looked at Logan in time to catch a wink before he leaned back and put his feet up on the table.
Five minutes later he was driving her crazy as he snored next to her while Doyle and Paris argued across the roundtable. Well, not really snoring so much as breathing loudly.
She pushed both his feet off the table with a quick shove and smirked at him as he startled out of sleep, nearly falling off the chair.
“Pay attention.” If she had to, he had to. So there.
Logan leaned in to her, “You know Ace, after the things I did for you last night, you should be a little more grateful, let a guy catch up on his rest, ya know?”
Her blush was immediate and apparent to everyone.
“Gilmore?” Doyle’s sudden attention had her wanting to slip under the table and die.
Logan’s hand on her leg had her sitting up so fast from the slow slump that she hit her elbow on the edge of the table.
“Shit!” Her sharp and sudden profanity put a grin on Logan’s face as he gave her knee a quick squeeze before pulling his hand away. “I’m okay Doyle. I’m fine.”
“Great, you want to fill me in on what you and Logan were talking about? Maybe it has something to do with the last story idea we were talking about?”
“Rory was suggesting that we team up and take on the criminal element thing.”
“Excuse me?” Doyle’s eyes were as wide as Rory’s as she spun to look at Logan. “You’re going to write something?”
“Sure, we’ll take that criminal thing you were talking about.”
“The criminal element of Yale students. Something you’d know about, right Huntzberger?” Paris raised a brow at him.
He winked, “A gentleman never tells Gellar.”
“One thing I have heard about you is that you’re hardly a gentleman” Paris’s eyes flicked to the top of Rory’s turtleneck. Rory felt her face burn again.
“Fine, Gilmore, you get to take care of Huntzberger. Everyone else know what they’re doing? Right, clear out. Out!”
Rory stood and hurried out, she couldn’t face both Logan and Paris, not together. And hopefully by running out she’d lose both of them for a little while.
No such luck though.
Rory stopped at a bench to lean down and retie her shoelace and Logan slumped down next to her foot.
“In a hurry Ace?”
“I can’t deal with anything, anything heavy right now.”
“You calling me heavy? Cause I remember last night you-”
“Paris, Logan, I was talking about Paris.”
He grinned, “I know, I just like how you blush so easily. It’s cute.”
Rory finished tying her shoelace and sat delicately on the hard bench next to Logan.
“So Ace, how are you feeling?” He repeated his initial question.
“Truth?” He nodded. “I hurt. I hurt all over, from my toes to my hair, I hurt.”
Logan’s mouth dropped open. “Did I…”
“No! No, though I’m sure that on top of the rugby yesterday probably didn’t exactly help, I blame this on Finn. And tequila.”
“Ahh tequila, it’s an evil beast.” He grinned at her. “What are your plans for the rest of the day?”
“I’m going to get a few hours sleep then wallow.”
“Excuse me? Wallow?”
“You know, eat a load of junk food, watch classic movies, feel sorry for myself.”
“I know what wallowing is, I want to know what you’re wallowing about. Why.”
“I have this theory.”
Logan gestured with his hand, “And?”
“I didn’t wallow after my last break up with Dean you see, that’s why I slept with you.”
“That’s the theory?”
“There’s more to it than that, but that’s the basics, yeah.”
“So it had nothing to do with my fantastic body, brilliant personality and beautiful face?” He leered at her.
“That might have been about five percent.”
“Five percent? Five?”
“Five, then another ten or so would be tequila, the rest cause I haven’t wallowed.”
“I still don’t get the wallowing thing, Ace.”
Rory sighed and leaned her head tiredly on his shoulder. “Back when I had my first break up with my boyfriend in junior year, I refused to wallow. I ended up going to a party with my friend Lane and ended up kissing a boy that I didn’t particularly like that much.”
“All ‘cause you didn’t wallow?”
“Well, that’s what I figure, I pretty much started crying all over Tristan.” Rory smiled as she remembered the scene. “He was worried he had bit my lip, not likely with all the practice he’d had at kissing. No, I just wasn’t over Dean, hadn’t even begun to mourn the loss of our relationship.”
“Wait, wait, this is the same Dean as the other weekend?”
“Yes.”
“Wow.”
“What wow?”
“You two had been together forever.”
“Let me finish.”
“Let’s walk and talk. Its cold out here and your ass isn’t the only sore one around here.” So Rory explained as they made their way to her dorm, her theory of wallowing. And by the time they got there, Logan had decided that if her theory was valid, he wasn’t going to get it on with her again and with that thought, he made a mental note to join her in her wallowing.
He settled on her couch as she dug around looking for her car keys and the dorm phone to order takeout. She was going to mourn the loss of her relationship with Dean and he was going to mourn the loss of more sex with Rory.
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